a pocket full of sixpence
by the blanket
Summary: drabbles. 61 UP. Sasuke, Sakura, and the ways they stay the same."You make me feel twelve again."
1. as lovers go

**title:** as lovers go  
**prompt:** _bed_ (hee.)  
**rating:** strong T, because of implied activities  
**pairing:** _SasuSaku_  
**disclaimer:** Naruto is so absolutely not mine. Neither is the song from whence my inspiration came.

* * *

When she comes, it is with little more than a stifled groan, a grunt really, not unlike the one she makes when she's battling a particularly fierce enemy shinobi. It's throaty, and deep, almost guttural, and vaguely masculine. 

He thinks it is the most beautiful sound he has ever heard.

And for a moment, she's suspended in a place without time, without season, without anything except the feeling of the man inside her, and for the millionth time, she cannot remember where he begins and where she ends.

It lasts for a small eternity, and not nearly long enough.

She turns to him, still panting, face flushed with exertion, bright green eyes already half-shut.

She is tired, and he cannot help but feel satisfied in the afterglow. This woman who has taken him by the hand, guided him through the process of redemption, and led him to

_(peace, tranquility, nirvana or as close as he can get anyway, or may be even completion, but he doesn't have that much hope, not yet)_

something he is still hesitant to name, who is small, and - deceptively - frail, and impossibly strong, and he thinks it could be very easy to love her, so

_(She turns to him, moonlight sifting through soft pink hair, and his fingers pause in the waltz they are playing on her skin. She lets out a breathy little sigh._

_"Again?"_

_He nudges her hand when it moves to brush away the black strands that are blocking her view of his dark eyes._

_"...Yes.")_

he does.

* * *

This is the beginning of a collection of drabbles - various pairings (I'll write anything except Sasuke x femaleotherthanSakura - only because my own preferences will probably interfere with writing out a good drabble). Prompt me at my LJ, (if you wish) because I'm not quite sure what the rules are here for writer - reader interaction. 

Thank you for reading. Please tell me what you think.


	2. the scent of yesterdays

**title:** the scent of yesterdays  
**pairing:** JirTsu  
**prompt:** _flutter by_  
**for:** Epiff Annie (heart)

**Notes:** OMG, A PAIRING THAT DOESN'T INVOLVE THE KONOHA (TWELVE) ELEVEN. Hehe. Sorry. I capslock when I'm excited. I liked writing this bit.

Also, to **coconut.mandarin**, you can absolutely request more SasuSaku and NejiTen. And other pairings as well. To you, and everyone else, I say, "prompt me, for I am your willing slave."

* * *

It's a quiet moment, despite the crowded festival stalls, and that is rare enough. 

He sits in silence, peeping telescope nowhere to be found. There are no drafts of _Icha Icha_ cluttering the pockets of his clothes, no angry, high-pitched stampede screeching for vengeance. His ambidextrous hair is as unruly as ever, and that silly wart on his nose -

_(all right, all right, it's a beauty mark, whatever, inhisdreams, whatever)_

He's quiet, and he's looking at her, but it's not with that mischief that usually precedes a violent introduction with whatever hard surface happens to be nearby. There's no speculation there - _hmmm, I wonder whether they've stopped growing yet_ - and no drool to wipe off on the corner of his mouth.

Instead, there's a quiet admiration there, a warmth, a sense of awe that doesn't usually appear in the black eyes that have - _quite literally, in some cases_ - seen too much.

There is no Hokage walking toward him in the simple kimono, and tonight, her amber eyes are clearer than the cloudless night sky.

No, tonight, there's just a man, looking at a woman, in the dusky glow of festival lights.

The sake has been locked away for safe keeping, and Tonton is with Shizune - and by the Transitive Property of Life, with Genma. She smirks a little because

(despite it all, she's still Tsunade, and he's still Jiraiya, and)

old habits are the oldest ones to break.

There is no malice in it, and after a moment, she smooths out the imaginary wrinkles in his yukata.

"You're late," he says, and she smiles a little.

"And wasn't the wait worth it?"

And then, he does smile, because despite it all, he's still Jiraiya, and she's still Tsunade, and she hasn't been smiling enough these days, and maybe he can help her make up for it.

"Always."

So they walk into the fray, past the wildly flailing blond sitting at Ichiraku with a stuttering blue-haired heiress, and watch with amusement as the apprentice forces the avenger headfirst into a paper cone of cotton candy.

And she pushes Kakashi into an already drunk, and especially rowdy

("Oh God, don't put your hand _there_!")

Anko. And even if he is with her

(and he hates getting sappy, so he won't)

he's still _Jiraiya_, so his hands linger on the curve of a particularly buxom woman's waist after he's finished playing Good Samaritan.

She swats him, but she's smiling

(a little, he can _almost_ see it under the glower).

And later, under moonlight, after the fireworks, but before the kiss, he asks

_"Now?"_

_"...Yeah...now."_

_"I'm sorry."_

A shrug._ "He was a good man."_

_"And I hated him a little - "_

_"Humph. Jealousy isn't a very attractive quality. And you need all the help you can get."_

_"- for leaving you behind."_

_"You wouldn't have."_

_"I haven't."_

_"...No. You haven't."_

And around them, the scent of yesterdays flutter by on dusty paper wings.

* * *

I feel fluffy. 

Later today: PeKo for Epiff Annie, and a NaruIno for Denwa.


	3. afterglow

**title:** afterglow  
**pairing:** NaruIno**  
prompt:** _summer boy_**  
****for: **Denwa**  
rating:** strong(_ish_) T

**Notes: **I LOVE THIS CRACK PAIRING. Um, request away, all. :DD

* * *

So she thinks of him, as she slicks her wet lips red, and pouts at the Lolita looking back at her in _silvercool_ glass. Her white teeth shine vicious in natural light, and her pink tongue slithers out to catch a drop of sweat as it makes its way down the curve of one cheek. 

She's a maneater.

A flash of orange outside her window draws her attention, and she smudges her eyeliner midway through - an artificial bruise on a painted, porcelain face.

Naruto is a Fool, she thinks. Self-deluded and slightly insane, but he's beautiful when he's angry with His hair,

_(and she'll Capitalize the letters in her mind because he might as well be God, he's so unreachable - he doesn't even look at her anymore, and Ino hates the color pink - hotter than the brightest star)_

the color of sunshine on white paper, and blue eyes brighter than a cloudless sky.

_(she missed the tang of chlorine in his mouth, and the way it felt in hers)_

Sakura doesn't love him - _will_ never love him.

And Sasuke wouldn't stay.

She fusses with her white-blonde hair, twists it into a messy chignon, runs the other hand down the length of one leg

_(and in her mind, it morphs into a calloused palm, tanned skin the color of desert sand, and she moans a little)_

and rests it on the arch of one foot.

Her green nail polish is starting to fade, and she aches for the loss of Summer.

* * *

YESH. I wish I could do hearts here. D: 


	4. the space between

**title:** the space between  
**pairing:** PeinKonan  
**for: **Epiff Annie**  
prompt:** _flutter by_  
**rating:** strong T

**notes:** You guys are so, so, so sweet. Thank you, so very much.

Also, I'm only just now getting to look through my reviews // requests (OMG SOMEONE REQUESTED. SQUEE!), so those will be up soon, as well. For now, enjoy this drabble.

* * *

**i. fold**

Her fingers still on the folds of his cloak, and she looks at him from under lash-hidden eyes. His face is inscrutable, but then, it has been since -

"This is what you want then, Na-"

He cuts her off with a finger a hairsbreadth away from her lips and she sighs, her breath fanning against the flesh of his fingertip

(and he never touches her, so she tries not to need _him_ because _he_ needs _her_ to be stronger than that and)

"Don't call me that. That's not my name. Not anymore."

The ghost of the past lies silent

_(and cold and dead and)_

in between them, and Konan tries very hard not to crumple under the weight of the world on her paper-thin shoulders.

**ii. pull**

He is invincible, and she knows it.

Pein is strong, she thinks, and so is she because she doesn't think of him, doesn't feel the pull in the hollow of her chest

(where her heart _iswasusedtobe_)

when he brushes by without a word.

"Konan, come. We leave for Amegakure, tonight."

Their shoulders brush and her cheeks don't flush.

She is proud.

**iii. flip**

It is a need, and nothing more.

He grunts, once, twice, and then it's over, and she falls back into herself. His breathing is all harsh raspy pants, and it's comforting to know that in this, he is still human. He stares down at her, strange eyes luminous in the dusky glow of lantern light.

"Your hair is longer now."

She looks at him, and resists the urge to finger sky-blue stands.

_(They're mussed, and imperfect, and all for him, because even if she doesn't want to-)_

"Yes."

She reaches up, flips them over in one fell swoop, and takes momentary delight in the fact that in these moments, Pein is a _man_.

_(she might love him, and she's tired of sleeping with idols.)_

**iv. open**

"That will be all, Itachi. Dismissed."

Konan does not fear the Mangekyou-wielding Uchiha anymore and locks eyes with him as he leaves the room. In another life, she thinks, she might -

"...want him."

It is a statement, not a question, and there is no emotion in his voice.

_(she should hate him for that, but that would be foolish, and she is never that)_

"He's a boy. How can he hope to compare to a god? Anyway, it matters not."

And for a brief moment, his eyes are more open than they've been in years

(what irony, in those red-ringed eyes, that promise omniscience, and yet, see everything but her)

and she thinks perhaps that Nagato - the name she has not been allowed to think for years - may be more than that, may still be -

"No. I suppose it doesn't. Though, I've gotten used to your presence beside me. It would be troublesome to find a replacement."

She says nothing to that, but once, she would have smiled.

**v. flutter**

Her fingers have memorized the motions to making her favorite weapon.

_Fold_.

(she remembers when they met, in the middle of the end, with war-torn clothes, and hungry eyes, and a boy who used to be more than a memory and-)

_Pull._

(like he does, when she's watching him and he doesn't even need to speak, she'll know, and she follows, and she almost hates him for it, and she would if-)

_Flip._

(and at night, she'll close around him, her mouth gaping open in a soundless scream, until he chains her down again)

_Open._

(in the way he'll never be, because she may be an angel, but he is a god, and there's a sky they'll never cross, and-)

The first of many paper butterflies flutter by.

* * *

This pairing is _totally_ growing on me. Up next, GaaSaku for Epiff Annie, and a SasuSaku for runwithskizzers. As I said, the rest of my requests will be posted up either in my profile, or in a public entry on my LJ. 

Again, thank you very much!


	5. not my snuffles

**title:** not my snuffles  
**pairing: **GaaSaku**  
for: **Epiff Annie**  
prompt:** _ care bears_**  
rating:** K

**Notes: **I was actually going to try and make this angsty. BUT UM, yeah. The prompt refused to tolerate that. XD

* * *

Gaara stared blankly at the offending fluffy, brown object in front of him. After a few moments of silent contemplation, he transferred his jade-green gaze to a harassed Haruno Sakura. 

"This is not my Mr. Snuffles."

The medic-nin sighed, and resisted the urge to grind the pulverized bits of her molars into even _more_ shiny white fragments. Damn that Naruto for dumping Gaara-sama on her. She knew she shouldn't have trusted his stupid _"Just going out to get us some ramen, ramen, ramen!"_

Repeat ad naueseum.

Surely, roast pork ramen didn't take _three freakin' hours_ to stew. And Naruto _knew_ how uncomfortable she was around Gaara, yet here he wasn't - and there _she_ was - helping the Sand-nin look through his hotel room for his lost...heirloom?

And the caravan that would be taking him back to Suna was leaving in a few minutes.

(she ignored the part of her that cooed at how _cute_ it was that he, with all his grains of power - oh, she was such a _wit_! - still carried around something so...very unlike him)

She drew her hand back, keeping the stuffed bear - a first edition Tenderheart CareBear in mint condition - in the circle of her arms, and looked at the Kazekage, brushing all thoughts of cuteness, and mush

_(and red-haired, green-eyed babies)_

out of her mind.

She had an international incident to prevent.

"Ne, Gaara-sama, we can't find your Mr. Snuffles. But the caravan will be leaving shortly. I will go through every inch of this room myself, and I promise you, I will get him back to you as soon as I find him."

He regarded her silently for a moment, and then turned away to shoulder his ever-present sand gourd.

"There is no need."

Sakura started.

"O-Oh. Well, all right, if you're sure, Gaara-sama. I hope you've enjoyed your visit to Konoha and - "

"I must have left it back in Sand."

He locked eyes with her, stepped closer, and Sakura swore that the room shrank in size.

"You will come back with me to look for it."

"Um..."

"Go. We should not keep the escort waiting. Meet us near the South Gate."

As he left a wibbling Sakura in the middle of the living room, Gaara adjusted the gourd once more, and silently asked Mr. Snuffles for forgiveness.

He would dust him off as soon as they got home.

* * *

First time writing Gaara. He's a toughie. 

Thank you for all your wonderful reviews! Please continue to tell me what you think of these. More than anything, they are an exercise in writing outside of my comfort-zone (AKA _SasuSaku_), so please feel free to request different pairings. Details are on my LJ; the link to the request-post is my profile.

Thanks, once again.

Next up, a _SasuSaku _for **runwithskizzers**. And then, another one (plus NejiTen) for **coconut.mandarin**.

To **coconut.mandarin**: do you have a prompt for me?

:D


	6. freefall

**title: **freefall  
**pairing: **SasuSaku**  
for: **runwithskizzers**  
prompt(s):** _Geronimo!_  
**summary:** This is so _not _how things are supposed to go. She was supposed to swoon into his arms, and agree to repopulating the clan without him even asking, and _then_, there would be hot bunny sex.

**disclaimer: **I've forgotten this for the past few drabbles. But yeah, none of it's mine.

** Notes:** CRACK. I hope you don't mind, runwithskizzers.

* * *

At 7:30 PM, on a Monday evening, Haruno Sakura asks Uchiha Sasuke to meet her near _the bench_. 

-

Haruno Sakura thinks it is high time she get over that Uchiha bastard, and that she should maybe, punch him in the face

(a little, and well, maybe not his _face_, per se, it's too pretty for that)

for being such a cold, arrogant, stuck-up little prick.

-

Uchiha Sasuke thinks that maybe, that would be the right time to tell her that he might, well, maybe, quite possibly, probably—

_("ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT, DAMMIT, _DEFINITELY_, DOBE, NOW COULD YOU GET YOUR DISGUSTINGLY MOIST, POSSIBLY RADIOACTIVE, SOCK-CLAD FOOT OFF MY HEAD? I KNOW, YOU SAID IT! I HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME, SO SHUT THE HELL UP!"_

_"YOU'RE _MADLY _IN LOVE WITH SAKURA-CHAN, YOU ARROGANT BASTARD! SAY IT!"_

_"SHUT UP, NARUTO, OR I SWEAR, I WILL BLOW A FIREBALL UP YOUR ASS!")_

—be in love with her.

* * *

He arrives at the meeting place seven minutes early; she, three minutes too late. 

Sakura is surprised when she sees Sasuke fidgeting.

Sasuke is surprised when she doesn't grace him with anything more than a mumbled greeting.

They sit awkwardly, side-by-side, arms carefully not touching—she, out of self-preservation, and he, out of a severely outdated sense of modesty. Sakura goes over the reasons in her head.

He doesn't love her, will never love her, and really, ten years is a long time to have been in love alone. She casts a sideways glance at the man sitting next to her, and suppresses a girlish squeal at the perfection of his (almost-feminine) fine features. Maybe she didn't really _have_ to give up this crush; maybe it could be like, a weekend affair or something, or maybe—

Sakura sighs, and silences her last-minute doubts. This is what she needs—what they both need.

They turn towards each other at the same time.

"Sasuke—"

"Sakura—"

"…"

"…"

"You go first."

"…No. You go first."

She stares uncertainly, but after a while, her green eyes harden with resolve. She nods.

"All right…I will."

_Deep breath_.

"Sasuke-kun, I am tired of being in love with you."

_…WHAT._

He looks at her, and for once, allows his facial features to shift into an appropriate mask of surprise. And confusion.

(Because this is so _not _how things are supposed to go. Sasuke had planned it all out.

She was supposed to say _"I love you, Sasuke-kun!"_

And then, he was supposed to chuckle suavely, because he's Sasuke, and he's got rules for that sort of thing , and say, _"Hn. I know."_

And _then_, she was supposed to swoon into his arms, and agree to repopulating the clan without him even asking, and _then_, there would be hot bunny sex.)

_THIS WAS NOT THE PLAN._

Sakura barrels on, oblivious to his Inner Turmoil.

"Loving you," she says, "is like teetering on the brink of something beautiful, and waiting for a reason to jump. And, I can't do it anymore. I can't spend the rest of my life waiting for you to realize that I could quite possibly be the best damned thing that's _never _happened to you, because you refuse to let me."

She sighs.

"You are very frustrating, Sasuke-kun. _This_ is very frustrating. And…I just, I can't do it anymore."

She turns to walk away, but stops, looks at him, and pauses, eyes going comically wide at the feel of his hand on her wrist.

"Sakura."

"…Yes, Sasuke—"

And he cuts her off before the overused honorific can pass her lips, and Sakura finds she does not have words, because Uchiha Sasuke stole them all, and slipped them into his own mouth when he leaned over, and

_(Mmmph!)_

kissed her.

Later, when the need for oxygen calls them both back up to the surface, she says

"YOU BASTARD!"

Sasuke, still slightly dizzy, says

"…What?"

"I WAS ALL READY TO GET OVER YOU, TURN AROUND, AND WALK AWAY, AND NEVER FALL IN LOVE AGAIN AND WATCH YOU WISTFULLY FROM THE CORNER OF MY EYE EVERYTIME YOU WALKED BY WITH LITTLE AKITO-KUN AND YOUR BROWN-HAIRED WIFE—"

_(Mmmph!)_

He pulls back, and looks at her, eyes barely glimmering with something she still can't hope enough to name.

"Do you get it yet," he asks, cheeks just barely flushed—not that he's alone.

Sakura's face is only a tint lighter than her hair.

"…So, um. About that cliff…precipice…thing…"

Sasuke smirks, still panting for breath.

"Geronimo," he says, before he grabs her hand, and leaps.

* * *

Whoo. This one got long. 

Working on the next few requests. (And um, don't be shy.)

Tell me what you think.

:D


	7. speak, my love

**title:** speak, my love, and I will know your song  
**pairing: **NejiTen  
**for: **coconut.mandarin  
**prompt: **_Je t'aime  
_**summary: **"_Je t'aime, _Neji. There. I think I've said it right."

**Notes:** I have not written NejiTen in a very, very long time. Woot.

ALSO, RUN-ON SENTENCES AHOY. But you all should know to expect that from me by now. D:

* * *

-

Tenten has a list of things to do before she dies, and this is Number Eight.

-

* * *

She enumerates them at various points in her life—the first three after the death of the father she never knew, and numbers six through ten from the time her mother followed soon after, to the beginning of her life as a Konoha _shinobi_. At the orphanage, it was a way of distracting herself from the loneliness in her life—from missing the mother that would never braid her hair again, from hating the man she saw buying ribbons for his "real" daughter two summers ago.

_(and really, how could she, with her dark brown hair, and nondescript features ever compete with such perfect porcelain frailty?)_

-

Tenten longs to fly—to feel the warmth of the Sun on the apples of her cheeks, to have the wind whip her hair until she can't see the solid dark earth beneath her.

_(This is Number One.)_

When she's old enough to enroll in the Ninja Academy, she does so without regrets, despite the pitying look in the caretaker's eyes.

The first thing she does when she gets home from registration is cross it off her list.

_(She may never touch the clouds, but in those four walls, she is freer than she has ever been.)_

-

She excels in school, and is the top _kunoichi _of her graduating class.

_(She crosses Number Two off, because she has it now, the stability of position, the validation of her worth she so desperately craved as a child growing up here and there, even if she didn't really know the words for it back then when her small hands had hastily scrawled on whatever spare piece of parchment she could find, even if—)_

_It doesn't take much_, she thinks with a scowl. All the other girls are busy fawning over that Hyuuga Neji.

Tenten thinks he probably spends more time deep-conditioning his long hair

_(and repeatedly tells herself that she's totally NOT jealous of its shine and luster) _

than anything practical, like target practice, or distance running, or endurance tests.

Then she sees him fight, and chokes on her own breath.

She goes home that day, and vows to win against him.

It's Number Three on her list.

-

When she is twelve years old, she meets the people she supposes will be her "family."

Her "father," is an…overly exuberant man, to say the very least. His eyebrows take up most of his forehead, and his teeth quite audibly _sparkle_ when he gives them all a welcome smile. Despite all of that, he seems harmless enough, if a little excitable, and Tenten figures he can't be _completely _useless if he's made it to being an elite Jounin.

_(Though she'd heard wonderful things about that Hatake-san…)_

Her first "brother," is their teacher in miniature, right down to the youthful sparkles and overly zealous work ethic. Rock Lee is impossibly good-natured, and unfailingly polite, and when he bows in greeting, and gives her the double thumbs up, she cannot help but smile back. His friendliness is catching, and even she, who has never been one of the more "open" residents of Konoha, cannot stay impassive in the face of such glowing cordiality.

_(She makes it a point to try and be more like him. That makes Number Four)._

Her other "brother," she thinks, would be a kindred soul…if she were a hundred times crankier than her default anyway. The Hyuuga seems to have a chip of his shoulder the approximate size of the Hokage Monument, but she tries to understand. From what she can gather

_(which isn't very much considering who she isn't)_

the Hyuuga are a fractured clan, and their pieces do not generally fit as perfectly as the ones in the puzzles she used to put together in the orphanage. Neji does not smile at her, but he jerks his head once, in a perfunctory greeting.

She smiles tentatively, and they reach a quiet understanding.

-

Lee and Gai-sensei are a different breed of eccentric.

She realizes this after the first time Gai-sensei makes them all hurtle headfirst into a gigantic log in an effort to split it down the middle. "_The Lotus," _he calls it, _"and don't smirk, Neji, this could be your ace-in-the-hole!"_

She is mildly skeptical, her long-haired teammate, even more so.

When Lee is the only one who manages it, she turns to him and asks,

"Want to spar?"

He quirks a brow at her _(impertinent)_ challenge and replies,

"Just don't cry when you break a nail."

She snarls, and he smirks.

They begin.

-

After the Chuunin Exam, she makes a mental note to cross Number Five

_(because even if she didn't win, she fought, and bled, and damn well tried, and Temari's wind was too much for her flimsy strings, and Tenten tries very hard not to take that as a sign, and that has to be enough, she has conquered her fear of falling, and all it cost was her pride)_

and Number Six

_(because it wasn't a thing to accomplish, as much as it was a rule to live by , but she thinks showing weakness, crying tears, is a perfectly logical, perfectly sensible thing to do when her Light is lying crippled, and drab—and she misses that shade of green, and the way he patted her head when he was so happy, he forgot himself—and her Strength is lying, not crippled, or broken, but even worse, because he's lying to **himself**, if he really thinks that what he's found out doesn't mean anything, is just another grievance to hold against **them**)_

off the yellowed paper tucked into the deepest nook of her nightstand.

For the first time in six years, she cries herself to sleep.

-

She trains alone for a while, before Neji seeks her out. His eyes are different, not as hard, the lines of tension that had made themselves at home on his face seemed to have receded.

They visit Lee at the hospital, and sew themselves whole.

-

For the next two years, Tenten absorbs everything through a filter. She sees Haruno Sakura walking around, listless, a deadened dullness to her formerly vibrant green eyes, and feels pity, but does not quite know what to do with it. She would fall apart without her boys, without Lee's boisterous encouragement, and Neji's quiet

_(and sometimes alarmingly cold, and she wonders when she began to think of him in such subjective terms)_

reassurance.

She approaches the girl one day, when she is sitting at the bench closest to the South Gate, and does what she knows best.

"Want to train with me?"

The younger kunoichi looks up, clearly surprised.

"I-I'm waiting for…" she stops, looks away, "…well, for no one I guess."

_(because, Tenten thinks, there is no Team 7, not anymore, but there is still a Sakura, and she doesn't necessarily have to be weak)_

"So spar with me."

Sakura fidgets.

"…I'm not…I'm not very good, and…I don't really feel—"

"Moping won't make them come home any faster. And this way, if he won't come willingly, you can at least drag him back."

"…"

"Right. Let's go."

Tenten grabs her arm, and pulls her to the dusty grounds, taking care to avoid the one Team Seven called their own.

_(She crosses Number Seven off her list, and smiles at thought of the girl she's helped to make.)_

-

Tenten doesn't know when she started wanting to learn another language, or even why. She thinks perhaps it has something to do with wanting to fly

_(because if she's going somewhere, she might as well enjoy the ride, and there are too many words she wants to say for them to be limited to just one tongue)_

but she isn't really sure, not anymore.

Sakura smiles at her, and suggests French.

_"Any particular reason?"_

_The medic-nin turned to her and smiled wistfully, and for an instant, Tenten saw the twelve year-old girl sitting on the cold stone bench, all those years ago._

_"Mm. Nothing really…just…"_

_For a moment, green eyes grew distant, and Tenten knew she was seeing the remnants of some long-forgotten dream. _

_"I…I'd wanted to learn it. It sounds beautiful. Soft…and almost warm…like hot tea in winter. It seemed…very comforting to me." She shook her head, sent pink strands fluttering mid-air for a moment, before they drifted back down to form a pink curtain that ran halfway down her slim back._

_"I'd always wondered …well, I wondered what he would have done if I said told him in another language. Maybe if I had said it in a way he didn't understand, he wouldn't have left."_

_She swallowed, turned back to Tenten, and attempted to smile._

_"It was just a suggestion."_

She doesn't quite know what to make of living other girl's dreams, but she leaves the bookstore with an Introduction to Romance Languages.

-

Her affection for him builds gradually.

There is no room for softness in their training sessions—it's all harsh breathing, and muttered curses, a few groans, and a deep exhalation.

It's a mockery of lovers' nights, and Tenten wonders when she started taking pleasure in the bruises he left on her pale skin.

-

During one of their team missions, he walks in on her changing in their shared hotel room. Her cheeks flush red, and even in the dim light of the room, she can see the same affliction on his own fair skin. Hysterically, she wonders what he thinks of her. She knows she has scars—she has never thought to hide him in the same way he makes every effort to conceal his. Her stomach is marred by knife wounds, her back has countless small welts, and her hands are hardened by calluses.

But he's _still _staring.

She almost smiles.

"Neji…have you seen enough, yet, or shall I drop the towel?"

When she actually draws one corner of white cloth away from her breasts, Neji's reaction is priceless.

He flees.

-

The moment of her realization comes at dawn.

It has been a hard mission, and they drop their teammates off at the hospital to recover from their physical

_(because even the best medics cannot erase the mental trauma incurred by being pulled inside-out) _

wounds.

She finds herself comforted by the feel of him at her side, and for the first time, she wonders what it would be like to wake up to him.

-

Tenten has never been the kind of girl who holds back, and in this, she is no different.

Still in this,

(in _him_)

she will probably always falter, will probably always feel a little unsure.

He finds her sitting under the shade of large pine tree, holding the book, shielding her eyes from view.

"What are you doing?"

Tenten swallows, audibly.

_"__Je t'aime,"_ she says, awkward, and unsure because this isn't her tongue, isn't her language, but the feelings, the words that feel right slipping out of her mouth are

_(hers hers hers)_

"_Je t'aime, _Neji. I think I've said it right."

"Tenten..." He doesn't understand the words, but the meaning is clear.

She reaches for his hand, and he doesn't meet her halfway but he doesn't brush her off, and for now it is enough.

* * *

-

_He turns to her in the morning light, and not for the first time, wonders how they got here._

_"What are the last two?"_

_She pauses in her lazy exploration of all the scars she can see, and looks at him._

_"Hm?"_

_"On your list. What are the last two?"_

_"Oh, those?"_

_She smiles._

_"I'll tell you when we get there."_

-_  
_

_­_

* * *

Heee. Um, Lee and Gai-sensei are in the bushes. WATCHING. And, um, flailing about YOUTH. 

Please, **tell me what you think. **The reader : reviewer ratio makes me sadder and sadder with every drabble. :(


	8. as he sleeps

_­_**title: **as he sleeps  
**requester: **coconut.mandarin  
**pairing: **SasuSaku  
**prompts:** _soleil_  
**summary: **And she dreams of things that happen while she's awake, because her sweetest, secret dreams have mostly all come true, and they're working on the rest.

**notes: **I vowed that this would be FLUFFY. And it is. Sorry. Also, if you wish, you can consider it a companion to the first drabble of this collection.

Hope you all enjoy, and once again, I thank each and every one of you for your kind words.

**disclaimer: **Absolutely not mine. Woe.

* * *

She always wakes up first. 

Sakura is a deep-sleeper, a sweet-dreamer,

_(and she dreams of things that happen while she's awake, because her sweetest, secret dreams have mostly all come true, and they're working on the rest)_

and she takes her time opening her bright green eyes to the world at dawn.

This is her favorite time of day, that rosy pink area between dreams and reality, and she snuggles closer to the warmth at her side. Sasuke always wakes up later than she does, mostly because he falls asleep far after. His hand rests on the curve of her hip, in light hold, but she knows that he feels her. Even now, even when his mind is locked in a world not his own, where Itachi is still his brother

_(because, despite himself, he still misses calling someone oniisan! and it would have been a good life, perhaps better, had that man never left the fold)_

and his family, ever present

_(and smiling, yes, even Father, because dreams don't breed disappointments, and Sasuke hopes, neither did he)_

She runs her fingers over the angles of his sleeping face, through the unruly black spikes that refuse to flatten, even in sleep. She traces his long lashes

_("It's not fair," she had groused, "what are you going to ever do with thick lashes? They're wasted on you, even if you are prettier than me." _

_And he had smiled and laughed, and for a moment, she'd wanted to cry, she'd waited so long to hear that sound, to see those lips curve just so—)_

the bridge of his aristocratic nose, brushes feather-light sweeps against the angles of his cheeks.

Sasuke-kun, she thinks, is like that princess in the fairy tale, the one who ate a sliver of the poisoned apple, who was tempted by the snake-witch. With hair the color of twilight, and eyes as red as rose…

Sasuke-kun is Snow White, and yes, she is the Prince.

Softly, slowly, brushing her hair away from her face, she leans in—

_(kisses the air above his lips, breathes against them, and wishes him awake and then)_

Sunlight

(_soleil_, _sol, soleh, _ she thinks, dazedly, remembering the words from a distant dream)

streams in through the slits of their blinds, and Sasuke opens his eyes.

Sakura brushes one last kiss against the hollow of his throat, and whispers her words against the warmth of his skin.

* * *

Oh, fluff. 

Once again, thank you for your kind responses to the last drabble. Please tell me what you think of this.


	9. baby, it's you

**title: **baby, it's you**  
requester: **Rebellia  
**pairing: **NaruHina  
**prompts:** _flame_

**summary: **"PLEASE, Hinata-chan? Can't you strip down for me?"

**notes: **I have NEVER written NaruHina before. Also, the prompt…it's just barely there. Please forgive me, Rebellia. I hope you like this anyway. D:

**disclaimer: **Naruto's not mine.

* * *

"Just do it, Hinata-chan! Strip off that horrid orange jacket and jump him, already! You're never gonna get anywhere if you wait for him to make the move. Naruto's a moro—" 

"A bit slow on the uptake." Tenten shoots Ino a look of admonishment, and the blonde is doubly chastised when Sakura smacks her hand against the back of her head.

"Ino, stop it! We can't all be as…forward as you."

The girl huffs and runs her hand through her white-blonde hair.

"Well, _sorry_. But you all know it's true." Nonetheless, she shoots an apologetic look at the girl sitting next to them.

Hinata fidgets on her side of the log and prays fervently for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. A part of her regrets revealing her deepest, darkest, most closely guarded

_(well, all right, maybe not _that _closely guarded. It wasn't her fault she always blushed such a garish shade of red.)_

secret.

She blocks out the sound of Ino and Sakura getting into yet another argument, and Tenten's futile attempts to play mediator, and instead focuses on the sight of the object of her affection.

Naruto wasn't the most handsome of their close-knit group. No, even a love-struck girl could admit that the ever-arrogant Uchiha and even _(ugh, gross)_ her own cousin Neji had the fine symmetrical features that spoke of true handsomeness.

But Hinata had never been much for that kind of perfection anyway. No, she admired classically handsome boys in the same way one appraised a valuable piece of art: clinically, and certainly with a certain amount of aesthetic appreciation, but on the whole, it was a detached sort of observation.

He certainly wasn't the smartest. No, Shikamaru, Sakura, and Shino took that prize. Shikamaru was fast becoming the best strategist in Konoha. It was a well-known secret that Tsunade used him in her defense planning. Sakura was a well-educated medic-nin, and she was the only one of them who actually still went to the library on some of her less hectic days. And Shino, well, not many people knew it, but he was probably even more well-read than Sakura. No, Naruto was many things, but she couldn't honestly argue on behalf of his reasoning skills most of the time.

_(But he was loud, and brash, and wild, and free, and sometimes she choked on the words that wantedneeded so badly to be said, and Hinata wishes she could borrow some of the fire that made him so warm.) _

She loves him.

She watches him now over the light of the bonfire, and admires his energy, his vibrance, his—

Sakura shrieks.

"NARUTO! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? PUT YOUR PANTS BACK ON!"

He pouts, sticks his lower lips out

_(and Hinata wishes she were the kind of girl who could be appropriately indecent and do something about it)_

"Ne, Sakura-chan! We're just going for a little dip!" He waggled his eyebrows lasciviously.

"You girls can join me if you want." He shoots a glare at the Emo Corner, where Sasuke and Neji are having some sort of Western showdown, and another at Shikamaru, and Chouji who are watching Kiba and Shino spar.

"Lee and Sai are the only one who wants to swim with me, and…well…"

The taijutsu master-in-training is quick to send sparkles over from where he stretching, and Sai simply yells out a

"Coming, Dickless?"

Ino snorts.

"Please. You just don't want people to think _things_, since you know, it's a bunch of buff guys…stripping down…cooling off…"

She trails off, but the meaning is clear, and predictably, Naruto explodes.

"_Whaaaat?_ UGH, Ino! That's not even funny!" He squints a bit, and Hinata melts right along

_(and on the sidelines, Sakura sighs, because really, Hinata was just so transparent, and she was lucky Naruto was such a dunce)_

He looks around, spots her, and, when she notices, her cheeks flush redder than flame.

"Hinata-chan! Come swim with me!"

"Wha-what?"

The blond is impatient.

"Please? It is kind of weird being half-naked with two guys, and you look pretty hot in that jacket anyway."

"Well…I, just…I…"

"PLEASE, Hinata-chan? Can't you strip down for me?"

_Thump._

"NARUTO!"

Unfortunately, despite Sakura's screech, his grating voice carries over to the clearing where Sasuke and Neji were having their "moment," and the Hyuuga stops cold, Byakugan activated, hands at the ready.

"…You want to repeat that, Uzumaki?"

The blond jumps a bit at the pure malice in the other man's voice.

"He-Heh. Ne-Neji!"

Kiba and Shino stop their match and glare at the blond

_("You bastard, that's our teammate!" Kiba yells)_

and all Shikamaru and Sasuke can do is smirk.

The girls heave a collective sigh, and tend to their fainted friend, smile softly at the flames that once again have made themselves at home just underneath her skin.

Naruto in the midst of fleeing for his life

_(or at the very least, his bones)_

smiles, laughs, shines, and thinks,

_Maybe next time, Hinata-chan._

* * *

Thank you for your kind words. Honestly, you don't know what it means to me. :3 


	10. look at me

**title: **look at me  
**pairing: **ShikaIno  
**summary: **So, go ahead. Call me selfish. Just once, I want you to be wrong about someone. And I want her to be me.  
**notes // warnings: **This one, I wrote for myself (yes, that happens sometimes, too). We will be back to our regularly scheduled program next update. :3

**disclaimer: **the world rejoices because, um. NOT MINE.

Choppy fic.

* * *

"…No." 

She looks at him, in faint disbelief.

"_No?_ Shikamaru, it wasn't a question."

He sighs, and turns away, clearly bored with the entire affair.

"No, but it's a response. That's what you wanted, wasn't it? A reaction. Well, there's mine."

"But—"

He scoffs, unwilling to let her continue.

_(because it wouldn't be fair, not now, not when everything was finally coming together, and he didn't need her—not anymore)_

"Ino, you can't fool me. I've seen you play the game too many times."

She sputters, and feels a hot flush creep over her cheeks.

"I can't—_fool you_—ugh, Shikamaru! You idiot, I—"

His gaze hardens, and he makes a move to stand from his place on the grassy field. His brown eyes gloss over the flowers in the distance, the woods, the training area—anything to keep from looking at the blonde girl he's known since the beginning of forever.

"What? Oh. You didn't honestly expect me to believe you, did you?"

There hot tears slipping down the curves of her cheeks, and Shikamaru suppresses the instinctive urge to wipe them away.

"Shikamaru…you…"

"Ino. Listen to yourself. Really, just for damned once in your life, _listen to yourself_."

He shakes his head, and tried not to regret the truth in his words.

"You don't mean it. I know you don't."

"…"

"I doubt you even know the meaning of the words. You're a child, Ino, but even more than that, you're selfish."

He raised his hand to stop the interruption he knew was forthcoming.

"I know why you're here. You heard Hokage-sama's announcement, didn't you?"

"Shikamaru—"

"You don't love me."

"…you…you don't…"

She wipes the tears away with a practiced hand

_(practiced, because in her heart of hearts, she knew this would happen, knew he would never see it, and she hopes that he's right because maybe then, it wouldn't hurt so much)_

and kneels down so she is eye-level with him. She is careful to keep away from him, and she speaks her words in clipped, even, tones. Her voice wavers, and her breath catches because she really does

_("—love_—_")_

him, even if he refuses to accept the sound of her words.

"I know you're smart. I know you're brilliant, and sure, and _almost_, always right. I know you're brilliant, and maybe I am just a little bit childish. Maybe I've used my tears before, and maybe I've lied. Maybe, I've been stupid." The last part, she whispers.

Shikamaru has not moved from his spot.

"But this isn't a lie, and it isn't a joke."

She laughs, a little hysterically, and raises a hand to touch his face, stopping short when he ever-so-slightly moves out of the path of her reaching fingertips.

It's the closest to an outright rejection

_(because despite himself, he cannot help but hope, just a little, because an old dusty part of him wants very much to believe her, even if she doesn't quite fit with his vision of an average life—just maybe, she could make it better than that—_

_But he stops, because he's gotten too old to believe in impossibly distant dreams)_

as she will get and she knows this.

She drops her hand and stands up, but her bright eyes never leave his face.

"I said, almost always, Shikamaru. And you'll see it. When you decide to let yourself believe it, you'll see. And I'll still be here."

She turns to walk away, pauses when she feels his eyes traveling down the length of her.

"Just once, I want you to be wrong about something. And I want it to be me."

* * *

Um. It's unpolished. I'll probably smooth it out later. 

Thoughts?


	11. and, maybe it's your eyes

**title: **and maybe it's your eyes**  
requester: **Tishni  
**pairing: **SasuSaku  
**prompts:** their love in stages**  
summary:** And she falls for him in increments.  
**  
notes: **AU. Consider it practice.

Last thing, features Awkward!Sakura, and NotMuchofanAsshole!Sasuke. Fear. I wrote fluff. And yes, I wanted to write fic with only two people in its universe. This was the result. Hope you like it, Tishni.

**disclaimer:** Still not mine, and a good thing, too. There would have been much (more) angst. XD

* * *

-

_And she falls for him in increments._

-

**i.  
exposition**

**-**

"See, that's your problem, Sakura," Yamanaka Ino says, spearing a piece of flaky pie crust off of her best friend's plate.

Haruno Sakura scowls, and suppresses the urge to chomp down on the finger waving in her face.

_Honestly_.

She isn't five years old, isn't

_(very)_

young, isn't naïve, and she certainly isn't stupid. The _magna cum laude _on her diploma, currently hanging in her office is testament to that. She knows there is no Prince Charming waiting to steal her away on his white horse, no knight-in-shining armor waiting patiently in the wings. This was real life, not some ridiculous Disney movie, and she is glad for it.

She's not asking for a fairy tale

_(just a love story)_

So she rests her chin on the heel of her palm, quietly rolls her eyes at her friend's animated gesticulations, and waits patiently until—finally—it is her turn to speak.

"And what, pray tell, is my problem, Ino?"

"You want to be in love in a movie." The blonde nods her head vigorously, and Sakura sighs, and wishes inner monologues weren't also _silent_ ones. They would save so much time if they weren't.

"You stole that line from a movie, Ino-pig."

"And? So sue me if some Hollywood screenwriter stranger is infinitely more adept at describing my best friend's dilemma than I am. Deal, Forehead, and please, eat the rest of your pie or _I_ will, and you know I'm on a diet."

Sakura laughs, pushes the plate across to Ino, and moves to stand.

"I'll be right back. I'm just going to get some more hot chocolate."

Her companion sighs, resigned to yet another day of excessive calorie counts, and lifts a forkful of cherry filling to her waiting lips.

"Grab me another espresso, will you?"

The pink-haired girl lifts a hand in acknowledgement and starts toward the counter. After placing her order, she takes a moment to look around. The café they're in is nice, she muses. It's quiet, and secluded, and tastefully decorated, with squashy chairs in every nook and cranny of the lounge, and eclectic conversation starters hanging in random intervals on the rose-papered walls. She is startled out of her quiet assessment by smooth, deep, and really, there's no other way to put it—_chocolaty_— voice that literally, makes her shiver where she stands.

"Excuse me."

"…Buzuh?"

Her stranger—

_(and really, she wonders, really, aren't we being just a little presumptuous in our choice of possessive adjectives?)_

is confused—no doubt struck silent by her _eloquence_—and Sakura burns with shame. A six figure education, and the best she can come up with is a sound reminiscent of a '50s game-show error buzz?

"Would you mind moving? You're kind of in the way."

She turns and realizes that, yes, she is in fact, blocking this escapee from Pygmalion's collection from his java.

"Oh, um, right. Excuse me."

She shuffles over to make room, and almost faints with relief when her number is called. After grabbing a few extra napkins from the dispenser, she turns around—

_("I swear, I was on my way to help you but this cute guy walked past, and you know how it is—" Ino will say later, her sorry attempt at an explanation, and Sakura hates her hates her hates her and why couldn't she ever be the one with embarrassments too horrible to recount? )_

and slips on a fallen sugar packet. In an instant, she's _falling, falling, falling _fast, and his arms instinctively reach out to steady her and the coffee—

_("I'm so SORRY!")_

has landed in his hair. The end result is a tangled mass of limbs and an empty clear cup lying on its side. She scrambles up into a sitting position, and flushes red.

The coffee wasn't the only thing that landed awkwardly.

In his defense, the man

_(whose name she still didn't know, and wasn't that just strange seeing as how she was, well…)_

isn't angry, just terribly confused and maybe a little uncomfortable with the way the coffee has gone cold and is now clumping his

(_soft_, she thinks, _it's probably soft_, and she resists the urge to run her sticky fingers through it because that would only make it worse, and _God she was such a klutz)_

hair together. His deep, dark eyes are only looking at her, and she thinks he might be amused.

Or maybe that was just the sound of Ino's cackling, lodging deep into her unconscious, into her achingly hopeful mind.

Her body pillow cleared his throat.

"Well, this has been a thoroughly engaging afternoon, and I'd love for it to go on, really, but would you mind getting off my lap? My legs are going numb, and I think my head's starting to stick to the floor."

Sakura squeaks, and blushes red, scrambles off his lap and flees the café, Ino and hot chocolate be damned.

_That man was beautiful_, she thinks later that night, as she towels her hair dry, _and he'd make a pretty good Prince._

_(not that she's looking for a fairy tale—that Ino didn't know what she was talking about, sometimes)_

She sighs, and slips under the covers of her cold, empty bed.

_It's too bad I'm stuck being the Jester._

**-**

**ii.**

**rising action**

**-**

Sakura sighed a little, and locked the door behind her with a soft _click_. It had been a long day, she mused, as she undid the buttons to her lab coat as she walked to her car. Honestly, it was all fine and well, fussing and crying over paper cuts and scabbed knees when one was five years old, but at thirty? She shut her eyes to the world and tried to find some semblance of peace.

Unfortunately, she had neglected to stop moving and so, bumped into something hard, warm, and decidedly masculine. She bounced off with a small exhalation of air.

"You again?"

There it was. _That_ voice. _That_ man.

…_That hair?_ How had she missed it? She opens her mouth to redeem herself, and maybe pull his opinion of her out from under six feet of apathy, and says—

"Do you cause much trouble when you visit the birds at the zoo?"

_(and in her mind, a red, rubber _FAILURE_stamp is making its way to her forehead with alarming accuracy)_

"…What?"

He backs up a step—probably to get away from the crazy person who goes around attacking random bystanders with her even more arbitrary questions, or so she fears.

"This has all been very amusing, but I have to go."

He turns around and flashes a small smile.

"At least you didn't have coffee this time."

She is mollified by that small grace at least, but remembers—

"Hey, wait!"

He stops.

"I know this is weird, and I swear, I'm not a psycho freak or anything like that, but…I mean…that is, do you have a name?"

This time, there is no doubt about it, he is definitely amused.

"_Everything _walking this planet has a name. If you're so interested," he says, voice carrying in the wind that whips her hair in front of her eyes and blocks her view of his beautiful back, "find mine for yourself."

And she stands there, completely undone, and not just a little uplifted

_(because he hadn't said no, hadn't refused her, or called the cops, and he'd had such _nice _hands, and maybe Ino-pig had something in her idea of love stories, and fairy tales, but then again, maybe not, because she was rewriting this one)_

and she thinks maybe she just might.

**-**

**iii.  
climax**

**-**

"This party's the dullest one, yet, Ino-pig. What am I doing here again?"

Instead of answering, the blonde hands her another glass of something cold, sweet, and sticky.

"Shut up, and drink this. You still owe me for when you ditched me at that café a while back. And, oh!" Ino squeals. Apparently she's spotted a friend. "Drink it. All of it, Forehead-girl. I'll be back in a bit."

Grumbling, the pink-haired girl complies, and absentmindedly waves goodbye as she sips, allows her eyes to roam over the other

_(male, because she hasn't quite given up hope in finding happiness just down that avenue)_

guests. The blond one over there—in bright, glaring neon orange—the one attempting to look inconspicuous while spiking the 150 proof punch bowl, seems promising—

"Hello, there."

She looks up.

"Oh…you're…Sasuke? Is that right?"

His smiles, she thinks, are lovely, even if they are rather small

_(and I'll change that, she thinks, because despite herself, Sakura is an idealist and she aches for that happily-ever-after that she swears she does not want)_

"How did you find it?"

She returns his smile with one of her own at his question, and runs her fingertips along the rim of her glass.

"A mutual acquaintance. Hatake Kakashi? He introduced me to my mentor, Tsuande."

He quirked his brow at her.

"Tsunade? You're a doctor?"

"Why so surprised?"

And this time, he smirks, and she thinks this looks a lot more natural on that unnaturally, well, _beautiful _face.

"The ones I know aren't usually so quick to—"

But that's all he manages to get out, because in an instant, a flurry of events lead to the two of them ending up exactly where they started.

_("Out of my way, pretty boy!"_

_"Wait, wha—" _

_And then the whirlwind of orange energy pushes her into him, and once again, she's falling, and there's—)_

"—some orgasm on my shirt."

Sakura, is still a little dazed, is still a little confused, blinks and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

"But we haven't had sex, yet."

And then he laughs, deep and rich, and his eyes crinkle, and her heart races, and she thinks she might just be falling for this stranger she does not know.

**-**

**iv.  
falling action**

**-**

"So I thought you'd be Prince Charming."

Sasuke looked over at the woman lying on his bed. He'd grown used to her frequent non sequiturs, but this one was interesting.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Her voice is muffled by the heaps of blankets she has piled on herself in an effort to

_("I'd like to drown in you," she said once, "or at least in your scent, if nothing else.")_

keep warm.

"And what made you think I'd be anything even remotely similar to some overused stock character in a children's fairy tale?"

She huffed, but the effort to appear indignant was somehow dampened by the way she choked on his pillow.

"Your eyes. Your hands, your face. You fit the part, I guess. But you're not. You're rude sometimes, and you snore. You're stubborn and arrogant, and you take about three hours in the bathroom, you absolute _girl_. You're a perfectionist, a hopeless Type-A, and you look down on anyone who isn't. You've got an unhealthy obsession with surpassing your brother, and don't get me wrong, I really do love you, but you have these—well, _periods _is the best word to describe them—episodes once a month where you get all _angsty_ and…"

She sighed

You're not perfect, Sasuke. And I'm glad for it."

She turned away from him, and snuggled deeper into her self-made cocoon.

"I never wanted a fairy tale."

**-**

**v.  
resolution**

**-**

"I still don't get it."

Sakura looks up from her book, and almost laughs at the face of the blonde in front of her.

"Get what, Ino-pig?"

Her pretty blue eyes are narrowed, and she's pouting. Sakura resists the urge to pinch her cheek—but just barely.

"_Sasuke_, that's what! You said yourself you weren't looking for a Prince Charming!"

"I wasn't."

"And yet, you got your storybook ending. It's not fair." But here, the scowl turns into a sincere smile, and Sakura knows that Ino really is happy for her.

"…Yeah. I guess not."

-

And, they lived happily ever after.

_("Sasuke, you're hogging the blankets again."_

_"Mmmflglorp.")_

Sort of.

-

* * *

WHY YES, I AM HIGH ON SUGAR, WHY DO YOU ASK? 8DDDD 

Also, I suck at endings. And to clarify, that "orgasm" Sasuke-kun has on his shirt? Its full name is _Screaming Orgasm_. It's a drink. ;D

Thank you very much for all your kind reviews!

Please (please, please, please) tell me what you think.


	12. tricks and pricks

**title:** tricks and pricks  
**pairing: **HidanTema  
**prompt: **popcorn balls  
**requester: **NakoudoByakugan

**summary**: Temari tried valiantly to look as though there was absolutely nothing at all _wrong_ with the fact that an S-Class criminal had come waltzing to her doorstep dressed up as _Tuxedo Mask _of all things.

**Notes: **Happy Halloween, all. :DDD

This one-shot is complete, absolute CRACK. Really. There's no logic in it at all, so please don't look for any.

There are about ten different kinds of wrong in this drabble. Count them.

With that said, enjoy, and, um…be afraid?

**Warning: **UM, it's Hidan. So there's **cursing**. **A lot of cursing.**

* * *

"What the fuck is _this _shit?"

Temari sighed, as if bored, and tried valiantly to look as though there was absolutely nothing at all _wrong_ with the fact that an S-Class criminal had come waltzing to her doorstep dressed up as _Tuxedo Mask _of all things

_(ugh, she'd never be able to look at red roses the same way again, and honestly, wasn't there an age limit for this holiday?)_

with a wilting red rose in one hand, and a plastic orangejack-o'-lantern pumpkin in the other._  
_

"Your cloak's all wrong. Tuxedo Mask's didn't have any red clouds on it. Your rose is wilting, and you're missing your mask." She glanced at his sullen face and sighed again. Some people had no respect for cultural icons

_(and little girl dreams)_

"Didn't you bother to do any research before you made your costume?"

"Kakuzu's a fucking cheapskate. He didn't want to spend anymore money on a cloak seeing as how I _have a perfectly fine one _in my room, and then I tuned him out because I got bored. And it pissed him off." He leered at her, and pointedly moved his scythe into her line of vision.

"Now are you going to tell me what this is? I _thought _I was going to be getting some fucking candy."

She huffed, and wondered whether she was supposed to be scared. After all, this particular missing-nin was the immortal one, if she had her facts right. He'd probably be a real bitch to get a handle on, if well, one were the type who wanted to get a hand, er, a handle on him, which she totally did not. At all.

(Even if he did have really pretty hair.)

Or she did. Whatever. But only to kill him. Or to try to anyway, because, well, he was immortal, and everything and that meant he couldn't be killed and—

…

Oh _God_, she was babbling. Even worse, she was babbling _in her mind_.

"Oi. Are you planning on answering anytime soon? These pants are starting to chafe my ass."

She started.

"Well, what does it look like, smartass?"

He glanced at the offending "treat" in his hand and then, slid another glance at her

_(exposed cleavage)_

"It looks like a popcorn ball."

"So, there you go." She moved to shut the door, but was stopped.

"Oh no you don't. I said, _Trick-or-fucking-Treat_, and this isn't a damned treat. You'd better have something else for me in your little bag of candy." He stepped closer, and almost made it through the doorway before Temari did something completely unexpected.

She took a step toward him and lifted a hand to his face.

Hidan looked at her warily, but stood his ground.

She looked up at him from under her lashes, tangled her legs with him brought her lips close to his ear and said—

"And here's something else."

With that said, she lifted her knee straight into his groin and left him writhing on the ground, wretched, keening noises slipping out from between his clenched teeth at random intervals.

Temari hmphed and shut the door on him.

-

The next morning, when she woke up to find blood-spattered walls and her entire collection of Sailor Moon manga pierced through the middle with a kunai, Temari shrieked.

From his position on the roof of her house, Hidan cackled madly, and limped off towards Akatsuki base.

He was in dire need of ice.

* * *

Um. Yeah. Thoughts? 


	13. bright eyes

**title:** bright eyes  
**prompt: **infidelity  
**rating: **strong T, light M  
**summary: **I want a lover I don't have to love.

**notes: **ohwhatsherface reintroduced this song to me. and lo, this was the result.

**warnings: **Traitorous **smut. **Dark.

**disclaimer: **None of it is mine at all. Not the characters, not the song (which, by the way, is _lover I don't have to love_, by **bright eyes**). None of it.

* * *

And maybe this isn't right, this clandestine meeting in the midst of shadows, in dusty hallways, in broken rooms, in bare shoulders 

_("Please," she begs, hands working feverishly at the knot of his belt, "please end this, end this, end us," and he slants his mouth over hers until she is too full of him to speak)_

in the remnants of infidelity on the dining room floor.

She moans at the feel of his hands on her legs, of skilled fingers creeping up to the juncture of her thighs, drawing back at random intervals

_(and she bites his shoulder, marks him the way he should have done her, and she hates the smell of sandalwood because all she sees is him—)_

and skimming up to her stomach.

She pushes her hands through silken black hair

_(not blond, and she can't find it in her to be sorry for it—not right now when)_

"Sasuke!"

_(he's already slipped right in)._

"Mine," he says, in tandem with every thrust, mutters it like a mantra, like a prayer to the gods and then,

_(she's reaching for it, that elusive white light, she's so close to shattering and she loves it when he breaks her so gently, and it will never be the same)_

she comes, violently, shaking, gasping for air, and he follows soon after, his head resting on

_(the body of another man's wife)_

her breasts. He shuts his eyes, and falls asleep to the feeling of her hands stroking through his sweat-streaked hair.

The moonlight catches the jewel on the ring still around her finger, and the lights cut through the shadows on the floor.

Sakura lifts the blanket to cover their heads, to hide them from the world.

_-_

_out of view_

_no prying eyes_

_-_

* * *

Yes, it's angsty. And desperate. And smutty. And - 

Well, why don't I let you tell me. More requests to come.

:D


	14. because I'm a girl

**title:** because I'm a girl  
**pairing: **SasuSaku**  
requester: **LazyBumForever**  
prompt:** fluff**  
summary: **Uchiha Sasuke was a Man's Man, and as such, he expected that when he and Sakura inevitably got together, he would be the Wearer of the Pants. But nay. Not so.

**Notes: **Once again, I suck at writing out actual prompts. The fluff is there. IT TOTALLY IS. And it's not angsty.

It's **CRACK**. And **OOC**. For serious.

Finally, I should be ashamed. I'm between classes and I'm taking time to upload fic instead of STUDYING HARHARHAR. DD

**disclaimer: **not mine. I've no wit.

* * *

Uchiha Sasuke was a Man's Man 

_(and _no_, not in that way that Ino and Tenten giggled about behind their nasty girlie mags, or ugh, Sakura once told him she'd sortofkindof fantasized about—_

_God, with _SAI?

_SAI who had an abnormal fascination with that which, um, stood between men's thighs?_

_SAI who habitually asked about NARUTO'S..._

_Anyway, was there no justice? He'd at least thought he'd merited a Neji—_

_Right. Let's not go there.) _

and as such, he expected that when he and Sakura

_(inevitably)_

got together, he would be the Wearer of the Pants.

But nay, not so.

It had started off innocently enough. When they went out to eat, she tended to order for him because apparently, he took entirely too long and in her own lovely words, his "dithering" was not only _annoying_—which was _his word for _her_, thankyouverymuch—_it was also unfair to the other customers waiting to order from the same waiter.

Fine. It made his right eye twitch a little, but fine. Sasuke was OK with that.

Then, it started getting Out of Control.

First, she'd started rearranging his furniture.

Now, Sasuke didn't understand this.

The way he saw it, she had her _own _place.

_(granted, she'd been spending more time at his lately, and she hadn't slept in her own for months now…but still!)_

If she wanted to play moving man with her freakish strength all day, then why couldn't she contain her urges to her own space? Why fix it so the recliner—which he had angled _just so _he could see into the little peephole positioned exactly 68 inches up from the hardwood floor—now suddenly completely blocked his view of the door?

_"But Sasuke-kun,"_ she had stated calmly when he asked her

(_why, why, just tell me WHY?)_

why she had thought to do that without asking him first, _"Sasuke-kun, you couldn't see the TV from where it was, before."_ And then she had the nerve to shuffle his feet, and look so…

So…

Well, he couldn't stay mad.

And then, there had been the small matter of, well, uh…sex.

Not that he didn't, um, _appreciate her input_ most of the time, _ahem_, but really. There was a limit to how many of her commands he could take before it started to get ridiculous.

_(like that one time _she'd _made _him _wear the schoolgirl outfit)_

Honestly. Sometimes he felt like just throwing in the towel and buying her a leash to use on him.

But _this_. This was Unforgivable, obnoxious capitalization completely intended because it was just that Outrageous.

-

"What do you mean, you're writing out my meal plan?"

Sakura smiled at him, and turned back to the piece of paper on his dining room table.

"Ne, Sasuke-kun. I just thought that, well, you know, maybe you were getting a little tired of the tomatoes all the time. They're good for you, and all, but your body needs more than lycopene…though, uh, the protection against _certain_ types of cancer is certainly a plus."

She winked up at him, and Sasuke had the ridiculous urge to blush.

_(Fight it, man!)_

so he did. Sakura laughed and kissed his cheek.

"So anyway, I was thinking, maybe you could limit your intake, and try out some new things, yeah?"

At the words _"limit your intake"_ Sasuke froze.

This. Was. The Last Straw.

He took a deep breath.

"Sakura. I appreciate your concern, and I…loveyou," he muttered, mumbling the words as though that would make them less true

_(silly boy)_

"…I do, but um…" Then, he straightened. This could not go on.

Why was he so scared?

Really, this was a long time in coming. It was time Sakura realized that this was _not_ a democracy.

No, indeed it was not.

_He, _Uchiha Sasuke, was the star of this one man show.

_(and somewhere in Konoha, Naruto sneezed)_

And Sakura? She was the hot concubine.

He started over from the beginning.

"Listen, Sakura. I'm…thankful. That you're taking time out of your schedule to do this for me. That you've fixed my apartment. That you…do my laundry."

He coughed.

"Really. I'm thankful. But this, I can't let you do this. I, Sakura, am a Man. A Man's Man. And don't smirk like that, that isn't what I meant and you know it."

She obediently dropped the smile, and Sasuke felt validated. Good. She was learning already. He continued with his speech.

"So, yes. A Man's Man. This is going to be the start of a new beginning to our relationship. I'm the Man. And you, Sakura. You're the Woman. It's time we tried things my way. No more of this making my decisions for me. It's _my _turn. _My _time. And after a while, you'll thank me. You won't have to worry about anything. Sasuke will take care all of it."

He straightened, and smirked.

"So, what do you think about that?"

Sakura had been staring at him all through his Declaration, mouth slightly agape, but at his question, she calmly shut her mouth, stood up, brushed off her skirt and stepped closer to him, hands clasped in the small of her back.

"Well, I think I understand."

Sasuke smirked indulgently.

"Of course you do, Sakura. You're a smart girl."

"You're the boss?"

"That's right."

"You make the decisions, right?"

"Absolutely."

She smiled sweetly, but even that wasn't enough to disguise green eyes glittering with barely suppressed fury.

"Good. You can decide whether you want to sleep on the couch," she pointed at the lumpy two-seater resting in the corner of the living room,

_(that way, Naruto doesn't have a reason to stay any longer than he has to, _he'd thought months ago as he bought the piece

"or in the bathtub tonight."

As she'd flounced out the door and off to work, Sasuke could only groan, and trudge over to the linen closet to look for the extra blanket.

He was never going to win with her.

* * *

(looks around) 

Nope. Can't find it. No shame here.

NakoudoByakugan, your KisaTen is next. It's going to be a doozy.

Thoughts on this crack? 8DDDD


	15. and ignorance is bliss

**title: **and ignorance is bliss  
**pairing: **KisaTen, hints of others 8D**  
prompt: **Spiderman**  
requester: **NakoudoByakugan

**notes: **This was the hardest thing I have ever had to write. D:

**warning: **So the pairing's KisaTen…and it's **crack**. Just like the HidaTema. Also, um…

* * *

"_ARGH!"_

Tenten mentally cursed every single

_(pretty)_

long-haired, white-eyed, _almost_-all-seeing, moronic Hyuuga bastard she knew.

(and no, she was totally not jealous)

Which, um, really was only one person.

_But all the better, _she thought, as she stood relishing the sound of the kunai hitting their intended targets with each of her throws. _All the _freaking_ better_. That meant that the full force of her hatred was focused on that damned Hyuuga Neji.

After one hundred had found their mark, she smiled viciously at her work.

An effigy of her _(infuriating!)_ teammate flopped onto the ground, the weight of her weapons finally forcing it onto its knees.

If only it were that simple…

Tenten sighed, and attempted to get herself under control. After all, she'd pleaded exhaustion from the rest of their usual preliminary team training—before Lee and Gai wandered off to needlessly push their bodies to the breaking point, and before she and _that man_ practiced their own individual techniques—in order to _calm yourself down, dear Tenten! Surely you cannot be that upset with your darling teammate_? _It is not his fault he is so…_

And she cut off her mental recount _right there_.

How dare he…just, _ugh_!

She was so absorbed in her, um, relaxation, that she failed to notice the approach of one Hoshigaki Kisame.

Her eyes crossed at the sight of him.

_Was that…_

"Hello, Tenten-san."

She sucked in a breath, hand already moving towards her scroll. Tenten mentally calculated her options. She had just about half of her reserves left, but she was confident she could hold him off until help could arrive. She was just about to unfurl her scroll when—

"I suppose it would be foolish to ask you to lower your guard, Tenten-san, but at least lower your weapon. I am not here to fight."

She eyed him wearily, grip tightening on her weapons scroll.

"What are you doing here in Konoha? What do you want?"

Kisame eyed her, and she could swear he was amused.

"Itachi-san is here for matters of a…_personal _nature."

There was a lilt in his gravelly voice that implied everything that Tenten really didn't want to know.

"…please tell me he's looking to kill Sasuke."

Kisame shook his head.

"I apologize, Tenten-san. But not even for you, will I kiss and tell." He coughed. "Or rather, will I speak of when my colleagues kiss. Or who, for that matter."

Tenten nodded, still a little uneasy, still a bit afraid of this blue behemoth. It was on the right side of lunacy that they were standing here, two fighters on opposite sides, conversing as though it was as normal, as mundane as breathing.

"Fair enough, Kisame-san. But can you tell me one thing?"

"Within reason."

"Of course…why are you in a Spiderman suit?"

Kisame attempted to turn green, which really only resulted in some murky, swampy color that Tenten thought made him look a little like algae in seawater. It was fairly nauseating when combined with the red and blue costume he was wearing in place of his Akatsuki coat.

"…I will tell you…if you tell me why you are so upset that your teammate won Konoha's Best Hair award."

"…I was second runner up."

"I lost a bet."

They paused, and tried desperately to believe this was all a dream.

"Who was first?"

"…What was the bet?"

"…Yamanaka Ino."

"…I do not wish to speak of it."

Tenten pouted, sticking her full lower lip out, and coming dangerously close to forgetting just who she was talking to. Kisame eyed her, appraisingly.

"Not fair."

"I said I would answer anything within reason."

"Kisame."

They turned and Tenten's heart began to race at the sight of the (older) Uchiha traitor. He looked disheveled and…wait…

Was that a _hickey?_

His partner turned to face him.

"Ready to leave, Itachi-san?"

"Yes. He was…more pliant than usual." The prodigy smirked.

"The Hyuuga taught him servitude well."

Tenten sputtered, and a little part of her brain broke.

"…_You're _Neji's new boyfriend?"

She fell to her knees.

Itachi shrugged uncaringly and walked away. Kisame turned to follow him, but stopped.

"If it is any consolation, Tenten-san, I think your hair looks far shinier than his own."

His meager attempt at flirting thus concluded, he followed his partner into the woods and out of sight.

* * *

Um. Yeah. Expect another update soon. :DDD 


	16. we might as well be a movie

**title:** we might as well be a movie  
**pairing: **SasuSaku  
n**otes: **I'm feeling nostalgic.

**summary: **I want more from you than a misguided sense of obligation because I don't need that, not anymore, and I don't want that to be the only reason I matter to you. It's not enough.

**warning: **Um. My usual angst?

**disclaimer**: not mine.

* * *

"Why?" 

She stops, but does not turn around.

"Why, what?"

Sasuke sighs, clearly frustrated. He doesn't know what had possessed him to even speak up. It doesn't bother him.

It doesn't.

"You…don't cringe when that idiot slings an arm over your shoulder, after he drinks enough alcohol to satisfy Tsunade twice over. When Ino drags you off by the hand to whatever high-end boutique she's fallen in love with this month, you don't protest."

He pauses, as though weighing the merits of continuing.

"Last month, when Kisame had you held up against him, you didn't even flinch when you knocked your elbow back into his gut."

Sakura says nothing, but still, didn't turn to face him.

"What's your point?"

"It's…just..."

He turns away

_(unnecessary since she wasn't even looking at him, wouldn't even give him that small comfort, and he just wanted to—)_

"You don't let me touch you. And, I wonder why. That's all. Don't get any ideas." He looks at her warily, as though he expects her to jump him.

_(not that he would have minded much because that would mean he'd garnered her attention even if it was slightly unwanted and it was better than this feeling of unfamiliarity that came with no longer being the reason she smiled)_

She does turn at that.

"Because Sasuke," she says , her voice soft, but clear, and he freezes at the subtle longing in her eyes.

"You're the only one who makes me want more than just a one-night stand. More than just a patched-up friendship."

She chuckles, and it was a little but empty, a little bit broken, and he can't help but compare it to the clear tinkling chimes from his childhood.

_(he can't help but find it wanting)_

"And certainly, Sasuke…certainly more than the casual sort of indifference we've shared since the day you came back."

Sasuke scoffs.

"Is that what this is? Indifference?"

She is unaffected by his sarcasm.

"You want absolution from Kakashi-sensei. You are…thankful to Naruto. And I…"

_(want more from you than a misguided sense of obligation because I don't need that, not anymore, and I don't want that to be the only reason I matter to you because it's not enough, I—)_

Sakura moves her green gaze from his, and starts back to the direction of the hospital.

"I don't want you touching me, Sasuke…

_(and she pauses, because really, he hurts her still, looking at her from five feet away and the distance between them might as well be miles, and miles and he doesn't care—she wishes she could say the same)_

because I know, eventually, you'll let go."

* * *

Le sigh. Life gets complicated. 

Next up is KakaSaku for my lovely sea otter. omgyes.


	17. the death of dreams

**title: **the death of dreams  
**pairing: **KakaKure**  
prompt: **knight-in-shining-armor  
**requester: **_Epiff Annie_  
**summary: **Kakashi's armor has rusted through with blood, with guilt, with unshed tears, and there is nothing left for rescuing damsels-in-distress.

** notes: **Um. Vague spoilers for Naruto manga, if you're not up-to-date with the releases in Japan. Also, I disregard something that is revealed to us in said manga releases. If you don't know what I'm talking about, don't worry about it.

KakaSaku will come...later.**  
**

**disclaimer: **not mine

* * *

She hates the color gray. 

It's the color of tombstones, of decaying flesh, of too-slow deaths.

It is the color of smoke and she cannot bare its fickleness

_(because it's too light to be dark, too friendly, too calm, and it cannot be white, it's too tainted, too effervescent, too similar to what it resembles to be anything but mist and yet)_

Kakashi is tired of being the knight-in-shining-armor. He has seen too much, knows too much to pretend that there are _happily-ever-afters _waiting in the wings after their too-long quests, and

_(he hides his bitterness behind the most translucent of masks, and there are moments when she wants nothing more than to tear them down)_

She knows this, and tries not to resent him for it. He has his own demons to conquer without adding her own to the mix, and in any case, she wants to keep them close to her.

_(it's all she has left of him—the other him— and she wants to crumble under the weight of her self-made misery)_

Kakashi's armor has rusted through with blood, with guilt, with unshed tears, and there is nothing left for rescuing damsels-in-distress.

Kurenai knows this, and tries not to hate him for it. She'll slay her own dragons without him.

She has to.

* * *

Before you all kill me for this, stop. And wait. 

You'll be glad you did, (maybe).

The last angsty one for a while. :DDD

Fear my humor.


	18. unconventional romeo

**title:** unconventional romeo  
**pairing: **KakaKure**  
prompts:** knight-in-shining-armor  
**requester: **_Epiff Annie _, because I wanted to give her something extra for being so awesome.

**summary:** I like to save the world from boring moments. 

**notes:** I rather like this pairing.

_KakaKure drabble number two._

**disclaimer: **So not mine.

* * *

_This has to be chaos_, Kurenai thinks, as she looks, dejectedly, at the tattered remains of her cocktail dress. 

The mission starts in two weeks, and she has no time to go shopping, what with her team's many missions, and her own personal training time, and in any case—

She rather liked that dress. She didn't much want to buy a new one.

It was a deep, rich red, a shade darker than her eyes. Strapless and floor-length, it felt like the softest of silks, and fit like a glove.

_(Screw it, she really loved that dress.)_

"Kurenai? Anything wrong?"

She turns to find a visitor—a Hatake Kakashi to be more precise—sitting on one-half of her black leather loveseat.

"Oh. No, Kakashi...it's just…"

She trails off at the pink floral-printed mask wrapped around the lower-half of his face. The grey-haired man, amused, taps one of his fingers against the side of his nose.

"I like to save the world from boring moments."

"…I can imagine."

The sometimes-infuriatingly enigmatic man indicated his curiosity by curving one visible eye in a small U.

"Now, is it that dress?"

She is startled—she'd almost forgotten all about her distress over her ruined dress.

Kakashi stands and takes the material into his hands, making a few "hmm" noises here and there. He flicks looks at her every few moments before nodding his head, decisively.

"I can make you a replacement."

Kurenai stares.

_"…What?"_

Kakashi goes on, unassumingly, as though he hadn't just offered to play seamstress for one of Konoha's leading female _jounin_.

"It's a seduction mission, right? Well, you'll have to be comfortable if you want to nail him."

"But…your students…"

Kakashi shook his head.

"Don't worry about my adorable little students."

"That's another reason for them to hate you." She stopped.

"And where did you learn how to sew, anyway?"

"I am a man of many talents," he says, winking lasciviously with that one grey eye, and Kurenai wishes he'd pull the mask down, just this once.

"It…would certainly be appreciated," she says, suddenly feeling awkward.

"Oh, I assure you, it's no trouble."

_A life-saver_, she thinks, grateful, because it was so silly, but she really, _really_ liked that dress.

_Her lucky one_, she thinks again. She'd never failed with it on.

"You're a regular knight-in-shining-armor," she says, voice light and teasing.

"One of my many epithets. Now if you please, turn around and take off your clothes."

Kurenai stared. And twitched, a little.

"…What?"

Kakashi had the nerve to look innocent from his bent position, hands rummaging through her cabinet.

"I have to take your measurements."

* * *

Just for you, my dear. 


	19. hey baby, can I get your number?

**title:** hey baby, hey baby, can I get your number?  
**pairing: **SasuSaku**  
prompts:**"Hey Sasuke_—_kun, is that a kunai in your pants or are you just happy to see me?"  
**requester: **_ohwhatsherface_

**notes: **I love pick-up lines (as you can probably tell).

**disclaimer:** I am not worthy.

* * *

"Hey Sasuke-kun, is that a kunai in your pants or are you just happy to see me?" 

Sasuke sighed, and tried to be discreet when he rolled his eyes. No need to attract any

(more)

unwanted attention from the pink-haired girl smirking at him from across the training field.

_Really_, now. Sakura had been getting just a little too forward the past few days. He almost wondered what had gotten into her.

She was getting _annoying._

Sasuke was no stranger to pick-up lines. He'd been getting them since the tender age of seven years old

_("Hey, Sasuke-kun, did it hurt?_

_"…did what hurt?"_

_"When you fell from heaven?")_

all the way through to his present age of twenty-one.

Though, admittedly, the ones he got now were a bit…saltier.

_("Ooh, Sasuke-kun. I had a naughty dream about you last night. Would you like to make it a reality?"_

_"Not really."_

or 

_"Are you a god?_

_"..."_

_"No? Then why do I want to kneel before you?"_)

And they hadn't gotten anymore clever. It was enough to make him want to…

He smirked.

Maybe there was a way to make it all stop.

And here was a perfect test subject.

He glanced at the kunoichi who took his silence as assent to come closer

(When had she gotten so confident? And more importantly…when had she gotten those hips?)

Running a hand through his black spikes, Sasuke took a deep breath and said

"Why don't you come over here and find out?"

Sakura gaped, and stumbled, clearly caught off-guard by the out-of-character suggestion. Was he _serious_?

Inner Sakura was screaming at her to _listen to the boy, dammit, there's a reason he was top of your class!_

Sasuke inwardly chuckled. Perfect. In the time it would take her to recover, he could quietly slip away, unscathed and more than a little amused. And if it worked this well on Sakura, whose crush on him seemed to have simmered down into a low heat, then how well would it work on his more rabid fangirls?

_I'm totally awesome._

His mental celebration was cut short however, by the feeling of small hands creeping into his side pockets, and slowly but surely, inching closer to his_—_

_…_

"Wha-What are you _doing, Sakuragetyourhandsoutofmy—"_

His voice did not squeak. Really.

The pink-haired kunoichi smiled up at him from underneath her lashes and brought her lips up to meet his own.

"Exactly what you said, Sasuke-kun."

And then she slipped her tongue into his mouth, and Sasuke forgot how to do anything but kiss back.

* * *

The first line is _ohwhatsherface_'s. 

(heart)

OMG how could I _not _write it out? D:

Feel free to prompt me with lines, yeah?


	20. you give me butterflies

**title: **you give me butterflies**  
pairing: **KakaSaku**  
prompts: **colored pencils  
**requester: **_illusioned_

(THE MOST AWESOME, FLAILIEST, MOST HEART WARMING SEA OTTER _EVER._)

Ahem.

**notes: **Crack-ish. Irreverent. Humor. Don't expect any logic—my aim was to induce SPASTIC FLAILING.

**summary: **You have my colored pencils, you irrepressible degenerate. I know you do. You are a pervert and a moron, and you are using my colored pencils to doodle breasts and lingerie on the back of my anatomy textbooks.

**disclaimer:** not mine.

* * *

-

"_See, my house burned down, Sakura-chan, and you wouldn't want your sensei sleeping out in the cold, would you?"_

_And she looks at him, green eyes glinting with suspicion, and states_

"_Tsunade-shishou found out that Jiraiya-sama was using your place to stash his dirty porn drafts."_

_He looks left, then right, eyes shifty._

"…_Maybe."_

_Sakura shakes her head, because really he was _incorrigible_ and it was kind of…_

_(adorable and Oh God, isn't that _illegal,_what is she thinking?)_

_She sighs._

"_Naruto's apartment—"_

"—_is not fit to live in. And there's barely enough room for him in there."_

"_Sasuke's?"_

"—_is painted black and filled to the brim with pictures of a mutilated Uchiha Itachi."_

_He paused._

_"Despite my appearance, I'm very delicate."_

"…"

"_Dinner will be ready when you get back, darling."_

_(and he does _not_ look cute, not at all with that stupid "u-eye" smile) _

_ "Could you…_not_ do that?"_

"_I'll be home when you get back, yeah? Don't be late."_

-

Her colored pencils are missing from their customary spot on the top-right hand corner of her coffee table, and Haruno Sakura is on the hunt for a Pervert.

He is lithe and tall, and deceptively gangly, with a shock of white hair, one eye, and half-a-face short of a normal description. He likes orange-covered smut, dry, and on the rocks.

He is a Pervert, and he's holding her colored pencils hostage.

Sakura growls, and glances at the clock over the entranceway to her apartment.

She is late for training, and there is no time for any decapitations right now, so she scribbles a note on the back of a torn out page of _Icha Icha Paradise_

_Kakashi-sensei,_ she writes,

_You are a pervert and a moron, and you are using my colored pencils to doodle breasts and lingerie on the back of my anatomy textbooks. _Again_, sensei, and really, it is all getting to be a bit too much. _

_And you do not even have the decency to label the parts right. _

_You have my colored pencils, you irrepressible degenerate. I know you do. You are probably sitting under the shade of my favorite tree and coloring the nipples bright red again, despite my telling you that no woman alive has nipples that color without there being something quite terribly wrong with her—no matter what _Icha Icha Paradise_ says and really, that should tell you how much _action_ Jiraiya-sama gets._

_You have my colored pencils, and if they are not sharpened to a fine point, and standing at equal lengths by the time I get back tonight, I am going to dig your eyes out with them, and you will wish that you had never heard of breasts, or boobies, or whatever it is they are calling them over at the bar you frequent these days._

_Pervert._

Sakura nods her head, once, twice, after giving the impromptu rant a final glance.

She flounces out of the room, and off to the Hokage Tower.

When he is sure she has left, Hatake Kakashi calmly lets himself in through the window, and smiles at the note,

(—until he notices what is made of.

"_A travesty_," Kakashi moans, cradling his defiled "literature," and crooning to it in a way that is not just a little _disturbing_)

replaces the colored pencils, and leaves his slip of paper next to it.

A pink-haired, green-eyed woman, amused anger dripping from every drawn pore of her pale-peach skin, stares back at him, and Kakashi smiles.

_A masterpiece_, he thinks, and thanks Obito for the help.

* * *

I HOPE YOU LIKED IT. D: 

(andassoonasyougetbacktome,I'llpostyourotherfic,yesyes?)

Heee. I'm a moron. And in case it wasn't clear, he got a little help drawing her from the Sharingan. Hence, the thank you to Obito.

Thoughts, please?


	21. happy happy joy joy

**title:** happy happy joy joy  
**prompt: **PEER COUNSELING. 8D  
**pairing:** peripheral SasuSaku  
**rating: **C for Crack.

**summary: **In which Naruto and Lee teach Sasuke how to Express Himself. Part One.

**disclaimer: **NOT MINE. And after reading this, aren't you _glad?_

**notes: **Utter crack. Accidentally inspired by a conversation with Epiff Annie. BLAME HER.

And I swear, I love Rock Lee. I'll do him justice one day, and write him serious fic.

* * *

Rock Lee sat up straight in his chair, hands clasped in a neat little bundle, smack-dab in the middle of his borrowed desk. His eyebrows were furrowed into an uncharacteristic expression of consternation, and his eyes were as serious as anyone had ever seen them, an almost serene tranquility emanating from their depths. His mouth, however, was in the same smile as it usually was, white teeth glinting in the darkness of the Academy classroom. 

Next to him, in stark contrast, neon-orange Uzumaki Naruto could _not. stop. fidgeting._ It was as though his body had something against lying in stasis—he was a perpetual motion machine, logic be damned,

_(as it usually was, in his case)_

and something about the look on his face screamed _danger-get-the-hell-out-NOW-while-he's-squinty-eyed-and-not-paying-attention!-GO!_

All in all, their combined effect was not just a little bit _disturbing_, and Uchiha Sasuke was beginning to sweat.

Lee leaned forward in across the desk, and looked intently into Sasuke's dark eyes.

_(and somewhere in Konoha, Haruno Sakura's internal boy!love radar blared to life, and she flounced off to find Yamanaka Ino and Tenten)_

"Sasuke-kun, do you know why you're here?"

The Uchiha glared at him, balefully. Lee got the message and backed off.

"…I could very easily break out of these sad excuses for restraints, you know."

"But you won't, will you, bastard?" Naruto sing-songed.

Sasuke sneered.

"It figures you two morons were at the bottom of your classes. You can't even tie up your hostages the right way."

Lee, as was his nature, let the insult slide right off his back.

That Naruto did the same…well, that was a cause for alarm.

"Hmm. Maybe. They're probably not as tight as Sakura-chan's, huh?"

Sasuke, who wasn't paying attention, answered without thinking.

"That's right, dead last. At least her bonds _chafe…_my…wrists…" he trailed off at the end, finally realizing just what the hell he was revealing.

Silence.

Then,

"I had a feeling that Sakura-san would be the kind of girl who topped."

Two heads swiveled to face Lee, one in dumbfounded bewilderment and the other in gleeful agreement. Naruto tutted, and shook his head.

"Nah, Lee. Sasuke's just the kind of guy who'd _bottom_."

Sasuke lunged, and dragged his chair about three full centimeters before Lee interfered.

"Now, now, Sasuke-kun. This is exactly what we're here to change."

Sasuke stopped struggling for a moment, a piece of rope still caught in his teeth.

"Mmmphflrof?"

Lee shook his head vigorously.

"No Sasuke-kun. This isn't punishment for your betrayal against the Leaf." Here, his eyes turned stern. "Though that was bad of you. Yes, indeed. Very, very bad of you."

He leaned forward again, this time, undoubtedly invading Sasuke's personal bubble.

"You won't do it again, will you, Sasuke-kun."

It was a statement, not a question, and Sasuke stiffened. Naruto answered for him.

"No, Fuzzy Brows. He won't. Now, on to business."

Instantly, the tension in the room dissolved, and Lee was back to his smiling self.

"Sasuke-kun. As you know, Tsunade-sama spoke with the Council, and they have allowed you to remain a Konoha shinobi, as long as you behave during your probation. Is that correct?"

Sasuke huffed, but answered, albeit grudgingly.

"…Yes."

"Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but did they not also specify that you need to attend an eight-week counseling program on how to _positively_ deal with your emotions?"

Now, Sasuke was confused. How could he know that? As far as he knew, such things were classified information privy only to the involved parties, the elders, and…

He took another look at the classroom, and suddenly noticed that it was filled with charts.

And psychiatric textbooks.

And inspirational posters.

Squinting, he could vaguely make out the words on one of them…

_Trust…fall…?_

Oh.

_Oh._

_Oh…_no.

And in that instant he knew.

Naruto cackled gleefully.

"Figured it out, yet?"

Sasuke, for the first time in his life, stuttered.

"You-You two…my…"

"That is correct, Sasuke-kun! For the next eight weeks, Naruto-kun and I will be leading you out of the forest of your own despair, and INTO THE SUNLIGHT OF YOUTHFUL RESPLENDENCE! YOSH!"

Lee _sparkled_. Loudly.

Naruto grinned. Maniacally.

And Sasuke despaired.

(silently)

* * *

THIS WILL HAVE MORE PARTS. BECAUSE I CANNOT FIT THIS MUCH WIN INTO ONE DRABBLE. 

Review, yes?


	22. ain't it like you to make me smile

**title:** ain't it like you to make me smile  
** requester: **HPBabe91  
**pairing: **peripheral SasuSaku  
**prompts:** rain

**summary:** "You'll make a beautiful bride, Forehead-girl. Even if it does rain today."

**notes: **Friendship-fic. Because we all love our BFFs.

* * *

Haruno Sakura is getting married today, and the sky is the color of ash. 

Around her, there is carefully controlled pandemonium.

Naruto flails, clearly indignant. He is in a _suit_, and he is wearing a _tie_, and it is _itchy_, and _there is no ramen_, and half the dinner menu is _greener than Lee's jumpsuit—_

He will die a small death at the head table, and so, he despairs.

_(but later, he stops, drops his arms, shuts his mouth and remembers why they're here, and he must smile, even if it does feel like he's losing his two best friends to each other and yet, why does this feel so _right, _this union, and he wonders if it's destiny like says—_

_and stops, because Sasuke and Sakura are far past believing in complacency—he's made sure of that much at least._)

Hinata giggles behind her hand, and brushes down the invisible wrinkles in her dress. Naruto is handsome, if a bit childish, but she admires him all the same. She glances at Sakura out of the corner of her eye and the smile disappears.

She should be smiling.

For a moment, she contemplates comforting her, but she sees Ino, and knows that the other girl will do an infinitely better job. Instead, she turns her attentions to a distressed Naruto, and once again, tries to hide a smile.

Tenten sits in the corner of the room, testing her proficiency in walking in her thrice-damned heels. Sakura is frowning for no reason. The ceremony will run on, despite the raindrops and really, what was a little water compared to what they'd already conquered?

Sakura bites her lips. This is inauspicious, a sign from the gods, and perhaps this isn't right, maybe they're not ready, maybe it isn't _time_

_(maybe it shouldn't be them)_

when she feels a presence at her side.

She smirks

_(smiles)_

"Finally conceding defeat, Ino-pig? It's going to happen in less than an hour."

Her best friend

_(and really, that's what they were, despite the angry words, and awkward silences of two little girls who didn't quite know how to cope with the pain of going their separate ways, of reaching for the same almostimpossible goal, of—_

_of growing up, but that's over now and they're women, and there's a lot to make up for so—)_

snorts.

"Eh. You can have him. Plenty more to choose from, and the good news is that these guys will be able to walk upright without having sticks lodged straight up into their spines."

Sakura growls.

"Watch it, piggy. You're starting to match your dress."

Ino smirked, and then let the expression fall back into something more gentle.

"You make a beautiful bride, Forehead-girl. Even if it does rain today."

And Sakura smiles through tears, and Ino wipes them away, the way she used to and—

"Now look at you. I'll have to fix your eyes again."

they go on.

* * *

I'm officially obsessed with the friendship between Ino and Sakura. 

Aharharhar. More updates soon, guys!


	23. trauma, trauma, trauma

**title:** trauma, trauma, trauma  
**pairing: **SasuSaku, Team 7ness  
**for: **_0sharpies0_  
**prompt: **clowns  
**rating: **K+  
**  
summary: **"Yeah right, Naruto. What about a circus could possibly scare Sasuke-kun?"

**disclaimer: **If I were wittier, this would be funnier. But really, it all amounts to the same thing—_Naruto _and all associated elements do not belong to me.

**notes: **I need to be better about updating. Seriously. I think my chapter-fics are taking over my mind.

* * *

"_Sasuke. Come here."_

"_What is it, aniki?"_

"_Just come over here. No, a little closer to Mother's dresser. There's something I want to show you."_

"_Is it super secret ninja stuff?"_

"…_Er, yeah. Something like that."_

"_Cool!"_

"_That's right. Come over here."_

…

"…_um, what's that you're holding?"_

"_This, Sasuke, is the secret to my prowess."_

"_Puh-rah-west? What's that?"_

"_It means _skill_, Sasuke. And _this,_ brother dear, is the source of it all."_

"…_what is it? It looks a lot like Mother's—"_

"_I'll show you. Just stay still and I'll put some on…"_

…

"_Aniki."_

"_Yes, Sasuke?"_

"_My face feels weird."_

"_That's normal. It's the power seeping into your being."_

"_It feels heavy. And pasty. And kind of sticky."_

"…_I've never seen you looking like _this. _Are_ _you sure you're not just making it up?_"

"_Sasuke! Would I ever steer you wrong?"_

"_But, I see you go on missions all the time and I never—"_

"_That's because I wear it behind the mask."_

"…_Oh! That makes sense."_

"_Yes, yes, of course it does. Now come here and look at yourself, Sasuke."_

"'_Kay."_

"…"

"…_Sasuke?"_

"…"

"_Sasuke?"_

"…"

"_Sas—"_

"_AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"_

_-_

"No."

Sakura pouted.

Sasuke sighed.

In the distance, Naruto…frolicked.

"Sasuke-kun…please?"

Her green eyes sparkled.

Her lower lip started to quiver.

And, oh, was she whimpering?

Sasuke glanced at her, uncomfortably and confirmed it.

Haruno Sakura was wibbling.

Sasuke was unmoved.

"My answer's final."

Naruto bounded over to them, and frowned.

"What's your deal, bastard?" He leaned in close enough to make Sasuke uncomfortably aware that his personal bubble was being invaded. "You scared, or something?"

Sakura scoffed, mostly over her earlier disappointment.

"Yeah right, Naruto. What about a circus could possibly scare Sasuke-kun?"

Naruto made a great show of pretending to ponder her question, and inwardly, Sasuke seethed.

"Oh, I don't know, Sakura-chan. The lions? Or the acrobats?" He looked at Sasuke, flashing him an evil look that Sakura didn't notice.

"Or maybe the clowns."

Sakura scoffed.

"Yeah right, Naruto. As if something so ridiculous..." She trailed off, and turned to Sasuke.

"Right, Sasuke-kun? You're not really scared are you?"

When he didn't answer, she smiled hesitantly at him, and turned to go home.

"Tell me if you change your mind, okay, Sasuke-kun?"

The boy in question grunted in assent, and she waved a hasty goodbye to Naruto before making her way to her house.

Naruto smirked at Sasuke, and waggled his eyebrows knowingly at his rival.

Sasuke cursed the _one _night he'd gone out drinking with Naruto to the deepest pits of hell. Once she was out of earshot, Naruto turned to Sasuke with a glint of irrepressible mischief in his eyes.

"So, bastard, tell me. How much is your dignity worth these days?"

"Shut up, idiot."

"Oh, _testy_. Can you teach _me_ how to apply lipstick, too? Or maybe some white face paint?"

Sasuke growled. Naruto went on, clearly

(enjoying his newfound sense of superiority)

unperturbed.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, sounding anything but, "is that a secret rite, reserved to the members of the great Uchiha? Because if it is, I'll understand."

Sasuke glared at him one last time, before stalking off.

He _hated_ clowns.

-

_As his little brother ran off, screaming for retribution, for vengeance,_

_(for Mother)_

_Itachi smiled. _

_That would teach the brat to play with his ANBU gear._

_-_

* * *

Hey all. I realize my updates for this drabble collection are slowingdown, and I apologize for that. Rest assured that everyone who requested _will_ get their piece, yeah? 

You guys are awesome. :D

Now, review yeah ?


	24. girl fight

**title: **girl fight  
**pairing: ** Team 7ness, SasuSaku  
**summary:** "Sakura! Sakura! Sasuke and Naruto are having a girl fight, come quick!"

**notes: **Written mostly to balance out the ridiculous amount of angst I wrote for _drown the moon_, the OroTsu I promised **ohwhatsherface**. Apologies, **Rebellia**. I promise, promise, promise, your FugaMiko is next.

**warning: **THAR BE CRACK HERE. Yeah.

**disclaimer:** nope nope nope. not mine.

* * *

Haruno Sakura sighed in satisfaction as the last of her paperwork went into her outbox. _Finally_, after a ridiculously long twelve-hour shift, she was free to relax. She propped her feet up on her desk, and yawned, stretching her arms high over her head. Spying the book she'd kept hidden away for just such an occasion, she smiled, and readied herself to enter the world of Regency Romances, where the plots were dramatic, the women, witty, and the men— 

Suddenly, Ino burst into the room, panting heavily, cheeks flushed with exertion, and amusement shining out of her pretty blue eyes.

"Sakura, Sakura, come quick! Naruto and Sasuke are having a girl fight!"

_(—behaved with dignity.)_

She sighed, this time in resignation, as she placed her dusty bookmark into the pages of her novel, and slipped out of the room, mentally tallying the amount of chakra she was going to have to expend healing the two morons who were clearly too immature to stop and think about who was going to have to clean up after their perpetual messes and—

"Did she just say _girl fight?_"

-

"Bastard!"

_SLAP_.

"Idiot!"

_SLAP._

"Priss!"

_SLAP._

"Dead last!"

_SLAP._

"Eunuch!"

_SLA__—_

"…what?"

"…"

"Do you even know what that _means_?"

"Um, yeah. Sai calls me one all the time!"

"…And yet, you're proud."

"Yeah, well…you shut up! Asshole!"

"Dumba—OW!"

Sasuke looked at Sakura with a scowl, rubbing his arm as though that would ease the sharp sting of her punch.

"What the hell was that for?"

She growled right back at him, and blew a tuft of pink hair out of her face.

"That was for interrupting my reading."

"Why didn't you hit the moron? He was louder."

"And you were closer." She gestured at the crowd of people around them. Ino was there, pouting, clearly upset that her entertainment had been forcibly stopped. Kiba looked similarly disgruntled, while Neji and Shino looked indifferent. Hinata had both hands over her mouth, which was gaping at the rather…unorthodox display.

"Aren't you two ashamed of yourselves? What the hell were you thinking? Why don't you just spar normally?"

She turned to Naruto with a look on her face that clearly indicated that he was next unless he could explain their ridiculousness. The blond smiled, nervously.

"Well, uh, you see, Sakura-chan…"

"I'm listening."

"It was a…new training regime?"

She tapped her foot, clearly not amused.

"Try again."

Sasuke sighed.

"We…just…"

"Yes?"

He glanced meaningfully at their eavesdroppers and scowled. Clearly, he wasn't keen on saying anything while Ino was still in earshot. Sakura rolled her eyes, and herded their peers away, silently promising Ino a play-by-play later on.

"All right, they're gone. Now what the hell were you guys thinking?"

Naruto shuffled uneasily.

"Well…you know how you always used to complain about patching us up after we've beaten the shit out of each other?"

Sasuke snorted.

"Speak for yourself, loser."

Naruto ignored that.

"Well, the bastard and I, that is…we—"

"We were tired of you whining so we decided to try and limit our injuries to superficial ones. So you don't have to kill yourself healing us. And stuff." He looked away, clearly embarrassed, if the blush on his face was anything to go by. Naruto shuffled awkwardly on his feet, waiting for her reaction.

Sakura, for her part was touched more than she cared to admit. Combining this recent revelation with her stress from work, and her lack of sleep, and the jumbled mass of girl-feelings taking up residence in her system, Sakura sank down to the ground—

"You guys…"

—and burst into tears.

Sasuke's eyes grew wide, and he backed away, clearly discomfited by the mass of crying girl two feet to his left. Naruto, for his part, jumped at Sasuke.

"What'd you do, you bastard?"

"I didn't do anything, you idiot! You saw me, I was just standing here!"

"You must have done _something_! Sakura-chan wouldn't start crying for no reason!"

"How do you know it was me? Maybe _you_ did it!"

They were startled out of their almost-fight by the sound of her giggles.

She smiled brightly up at them, and pushed herself up to her feet.

"Naruto, I'm going to buy you as much ramen as you can eat."

Naruto gasped.

_"Really?"_

She ruffled his hair.

"Of course! Just go on over to Ichiraku and tell them to put your order on my tab."

He gaped for a few moments, before shaking himself out of his daze and running of, screaming his thanks as he went.

She turned to Sasuke and stepped closer to him, watching with amusement as he narrowed his dark eyes at her.

"And _you_, Sasuke-kun…"

She fisted her hand in the fabric of his jounin vest and pulled him towards her.

"Come over tonight, and I'll give you my thank you. _Personally_."

* * *

UM. YEAH. AND THEY LIVED SMUTTILY EVER AFTER. 

Review? 8DD


	25. cold tea

**title: **cold tea  
**pairing / characters: ** Fugaku & Mikoto - because Sasuke's parents are too sophisticated for portmanteaus - a splash of Itachi, and a smattering of Sasuke-kun.

**for: **Rebellia – after more than four months of waiting. DDD:

**summary:** Their beginning is auspicious—they meet at three, are seated at Table Five, and eat seven small courses, all in a row.

**notes: **I am pleased to bring you the piece that _Rebellia _suggested I do…twenty chapters ago. Meant to revolve exclusively around Uchiha!parents as a couple, but, well…things happen?

**warnings: **Liberties taken with canon. Meant to be sort of disconnected.

**disclaimer:** nope nope nope. not mine.

* * *

Their beginning is auspicious—they meet at three, are seated at Table Five, and eat seven small courses, all in a row.

It is a good marriage, into a good clan and her family is content. The man before her is strong—all angles and sharp edges, with dark slanted eyes, an aristocratic nose, thin lips set in a permanent frown. She views him with a half-sense of detachment—a collection of separate parts that come together to make up an apparently remarkable man, if the stories are to be believed.

(He is cold, but she brushes the fact aside—wishing otherwise is frivolous, and she has never been that)

Their tea is bitter, so she takes small sips, and does not complain.

-

"He will be strong."

It is not a supposition, but a fact. Fugaku knows this. The Uchiha blood runs steady in the veins of this one, hot and full of the fire the clan is known for. His grip is strong, his eyes clear, and his face, an almost-replica of the perfect symmetry of his parents' combined features. This last observation, he thinks, is a trivial one, but he cannot help but smile at the thought of the man he is going to be.

"He will be strong," Fugaku repeats, a mantra he will regret.

Mikoto turns away to nurse her first.

-

When Sasuke comes, there is time for softness.

Fugaku is on a mission, specifically requested by the Hokage. _He will be angry when he returns_, she thinks, and the thought is an impish one. She shifts the precious bundle, so Sasuke is more visible, and smiles.

He has her eyes.

Her eyes, her mouth, her skin—her legacy is imprinted on every piece of this child, and Mikoto is content. Itachi is all hard lines, is _such a serious child, and does he ever smile? Certainly not at the Academy, _they say,and _certainly not at home_, she thinks.

Itachi is his father's son, solemn and sure, and already so grown, and she wonders what to do to make him stop, and breathe, and live.

He will graduate in Spring.

-

"He never looks at me the way he does Itachi."

"What do you mean?"

"He's so…different with him. Itachi is someone he is proud to have as an Uchiha. I'm not sure he feels quite the same about me."

"That's ridiculous. What happened to your spirit? You were never like this before."

"These walls, they…"

"…Mikoto?"

"…"

"Mikoto?"

"…Oh, I-I'm sorry. Sasuke will be coming home, soon. Thank you for the tea."

-

The silence is deafening.

They are locked in a Cold War, and Mikoto knows there will be no winners, only survivors. During the day, she cannot help but try to alleviate the ever-growing tension, though her efforts are always rebuffed with little more than a pointed look.

At night, her sleep is fitful.

"Goodbye, Sasuke," she says, almost mechanically, handing him his bento.

"Is everything all right, mother?"

"…"

"Mother?"

"You'll be late if you don't hurry. You'd better go. Be careful."

She will not lie.

-

It's almost painless, the way he cuts her once, twice.

(Itachi is merciful in small ways, and she is thankful for that, if nothing else.)

Fugaku falls beside her, face frozen in disbelief, and she is numb. She wants to curse him, wants to hate him. This is his monster.

This is her son.

The light glows dim, and she stares into the eyes of their own shared blood. The apathy there is a testament to her failure.

-

_(and then,  
_

_and then,_

_after the end, but before the beginning)_

"Next time."

"What?"

"Perhaps we'll get it right."

* * *

I'm working on the PeinKonan as we speak. Expect an update this weekend - an extra-long oneshot that should cover three of my less specific SasuSaku requests.

Thanks for your patience guys. )


	26. papercut

**title: **paper-cut  
**for: **Andrometamorphose  
**pairing: **PeKo  
**prompt: **free game

**summary**: She was the only one he felt, anymore.

**disclaimer:** not mine. oh, but if it were…

* * *

And sometimes he would sit, in the few moments of peace time he secretly relished, in world of war he'd single-handedly created.

The rest had been pawns—gambits in, literally, the strongest sense of the word. He did not regret their sacrifice.

She swept in, carrying rain-water in her hair, and the scent of war on her cloak. It was an interesting dichotomy—the cleansing properties of water dripping down the black smog of man-made artillery.

The latter did not suit her, no matter how hard she tried to hide it sometimes. She was flawless in battle, of course. He wouldn't have stayed with her otherwise, or so he tells himself. But still, the part of him that he cannot remember denies this.

And then, he stops.

Such thoughts are dangerous, especially now. He looked at her with those strange ringed eyes, and wondered what it was about her that made him forget himself—then, again, brushed it aside like so much trivial nonsense. No time for such gentleness; not when the Nine-tails was still roaming free.

That did not stop him from drinking the tea she'd brought in, before she silently slipped out again, his words of quiet gratitude ringing hollow in her ears.

* * *

I rather like these two.


	27. and they tell me you're a wild one

**title: **and they tell me you're a wild one  
**for: **PINAFACE  
**pairing: **SasuSaku. And a surprise cracky crack crack pairing.  
**prompt: **older men

**summary**: CRACK. There were some things that Sasuke had learned to tolerate—Sakura's drooling, and his toddler son's cross-dressing, to name two. But this…this was just not going to fly.

**disclaimer:** not mine. oh, but if it were…

* * *

There were some things that Sasuke had learned to tolerate.

Sakura's drooling for one—and this time, it wasn't over him.

It was _on_ him.

(He…er, loved her. Really, he did. But waking up to a new day with half his hair matted to his cheek, courtesy of her dream kisses—_but they feel so _real_, Sasuke, are you absolutely _sure _that I'm asleep?_—was not his idea of a good morning.

Not that he'd ever tell her that. And not because he was scared of her inevitably violent reaction, or anything, he just…well, it would hurt her feelings.

Yes. That was it, exactly.)

And then, there was his son, Kyoshi.

The youngest Uchiha was but a scant three years old. He was fair-skinned, and dark-haired, with his mother's sweet mouth, and his father's liquid black eyes. Adorable. Even Sasuke, with all his psychological scars, and deep-seated emotional trauma, could admit to that.

So what if he only felt comfortable playing in girl's dresses? Children grew out of that sort of thing, didn't they?

Sasuke sure hoped so.

But even that…that paled in comparison.

Because _this_…this was…

This was just not going to fly.

"You're _what_?"

Megumi, his oldest, looked at him with eyes of steel. She would not back down from this, even if her father had already activated his Sharingan. This…this wasn't about whether she'd be able to buy that cute new _obi_ she'd seen window shopping the other day, or if she could finally apply to be Jounin in time for the next exam.

This was about so much more. This was _fate_—Destiny.

This was stars in the afternoon, and moonshine in blue eyes, and seeing everything in Color for the first time. This waking up to a dream—this was hope, was faith, was everything she'd ever read about. It was sighing, and fantasy, and too-slow breaths, and wishing, and just—

"I said that I'm in Love, Daddy."

The coffee mug in Sasuke's hand shattered.

-

"SAKURA."

Absently, Sakura folded up the medical text she'd been reading, and strolled into the living room. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, Kyoshi had finally allowed her to put him in a pair of his sister's old pink shorts, and she'd saved a life last night. Nothing, save a village invasion was going to spoil her mood.

Least of all, her husband's ridiculous—and recently acquired—knack for _capslocking_.

"Coming, darling."

She came in to find her husband matching the puce curtains she'd had installed last week, and her daughter Megumi, her green eyes shining with unshed tears. At the last, her hackles rose.

No one messed with her babies.

"Megumi? What is it? What's wrong? Does Mommy have to choke a—"

"Daddy's being an absolute _beast_!"

Sasuke's chest expanded in the same way a hot-air balloon might, just before take-off.

"I AM NOT BEING A BEAST. SAKURA, YOU TALK TO HER—SHE'S BEING IMPOSSIBLE, AND ANNOYING, AND—"

"And female, yes, yes, Sasuke. By all means, go do whatever it is you do when you're not terrorizing your ANBU squad. And take Kyoshi with you—it'd do him some good to get out of the house."

Looking almost relieved at the prospect of getting away from his daughter's baleful glare, Sasuke returned to his default apathy-mingled-with-a-touch-of-familial-love.

"But what about—"

"He's in Megumi's old shorts." She waved him off, and after a long, lingering kiss—which, Sakura noticed idly, Megumi turned away from with more vehemence than was strictly necessary—turned to deal with her offspring.

"Now," she said, settling into one of the ornate settees they had installed in the living room, and gesturing for Megumi to do the same, "what's wrong?" She leaned in closer. "I'm guessing that it's something of a sensitive nature, since your blockhead father couldn't—"

"I'm in Love, Mother." In stark contrast to the way she'd been with her father, Megumi was almost demure now, the apples of her cheeks dusted with a delicate pink flush. With her mother's true green eyes, her father's dark hair, and a _kunoichi_'s figure, Megumi cut a striking figure—_but then_, Sakura reflected smugly, _how could she _not _be with such knock-outs for parents?_ She wondered aloud who the lucky boy might be.

"Is it Takeshi?"

Megumi blanched.

"Ugh, the Nara? He screeches louder than a banshee. No."

Sakura chuckled, grabbing onto a throw-pillow and hugging it to her chest.

"Hm. I'd never have figured him for having inherited Ino's mouth. He seems like such a quiet boy. Smart though, isn't he?"

"Yeah, whatever. No, it's not him."

"Mm. Oh! Tenten's son then? Hiro?"

Megumi rolled her eyes.

"No, Mom—it's not him. It's not _any_ of them. They're just," she paused, searching for the right words.

"They're so _immature_."

Sakura hid a smile behind her raised brows.

"Really?"

"Yes. They're such…_boys_. No, Mom. I'm…I'm in love with a _Man_. A Wonderful Man—who's strong, and kind, and swift, and sure. He's gentle, and compassionate, and dedicated, and breathtaking, and handsome, and just—he's Everything a girl could want." Megumi sighed, lost in her fantasy, and for a moment, Sakura was taken back to a time when everything she had now was still little more than a fantasy. She smiled at the thought of her—finally her—Sasuke, and then turned to her daughter. She wanted to hear the rest.

"Really, Megumi? And who, pray tell, is this paragon of virtue?"

The blush on her daughter's cheeks intensified tenfold.

"Do you…do you promise it'll be just between us?"

Sakura smiled indulgently.

"Of course. Now, who is it?"

Megumi's voice dropped to a low whisper.

"It's…it's Naruto."

For a few moments, silence reigned.

Then, Mount Sakura erupted.

"NARUTO? YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH—"

"_Naruto._"

Megumi turned suddenly fearful eyes to the doorway, where her father was standing, Kyoshi in one hand, and a kunai in the other, his Sharingan practically dripping bloodlust.

"Daddy…"

* * *

HO CRAP.

WHAT, OH WHAT, WILL HAPPEN NOW?

Pinaface, this prompt is pretty amazing.

TUNE IN FOR THE NEXT INSTALLMENT. SOON. :D


	28. shikamaru just wants to go home

**title: **shikamaru just wants to go home  
**for: **CRAZY ANNIE  
**character: **Shikamaru, and PRINCESS EMERALD-CHAN  
**prompt: **cheese people

**summary**: "You are not leaving, plebe, for I am Uchiha Inuyasha." All Shikamaru really wanted was to get home, give in his mission report, draw a hot bath, and sleep the rest of the day away. Apparently, though, Fate had other plans.

**notes: **I was bound to do one of these sooner or later, methinks. Inspired by cracktastic conversation, and a fic or two. AND, I JUST WANT TO SAY, THAT I AM NOT SOLEY REPONSIBLE FOR UCHIHA INUYASHA (A.K.A. EMERALD-CHAN).

Annie deserves props, too.

FINALLY, I feel the need to state the fact that this is by **no means intended to be serious**. It's a _parody. _

I hope you all have enough respect for my writing ability that the above was unnecessary—just me being ultra careful.

**disclaimer:** not mine. oh, but if it were…

* * *

It had been a long mission.

He was tired and grumpy, and no one who had spent the past few days the way he had—escorting the acne-infested preteen daughter of a damiyo to her father's summer house, and dealing with her not-so subtle attempts to get into his pants—would have blamed him for his discontent.

All Shikamaru really wanted was to get home, give in his mission report, draw a hot bath, and sleep the rest of the day away. He closed his eyes for a moment, picturing his soft coverlet, the deep blue of his pillow, and the comfort of his comfortable, slightly worn, but wholly familiar mattress.

The gates of Konoha could not appear fast enough to suit him.

Suddenly, his attention was diverted from thoughts of cumulus and go to the rustle of the trees overhead. A girl, about his age, garbed in brilliant, jewel-toned gossamer robes stood amidst the branches of the tree; a forehead protector with a hole running straight through the middle tied around her left bicep. The sunlight filtering through the leaves caught on one of the many gemstones she had arranged in a carefully haphazard slant around her anatomically-impossible waist. Her purple hair flowed artistically in the non-existent breeze, and as she flitted down to stand in front of him, her ponytail caught Shikamaru in the face, leaving him dazed.

He recovered quickly, taking in the deep red of her neckline, the blue tones of her loose pants. Was she a shinobi? He couldn't sense any chakra, but perhaps she was masking it…?

Maybe.

Shikamaru sighed, resigned to waiting a few more moments for his fluffy paradise.

"Look, I'm really tired, so if you could just—"

"Halt! You shall not pass!" Her voice was squeaky, and her battle stance—if one could call her spastic flexing a battle stance, Shikamaru thought derisively—unsteady. Currently, her arms were spread wide-open, her palms facing out, and her left leg was raised in what she apparently thought was an intimidating fashion.

Shikamaru snorted, leaving the stranger to glare at him.

"_I_," she informed him, self-importantly, "am Uchiha Inuyasha, Princess of the Hidden Village of the _Chizu_. "And you are—"

_Tired_, Shikamaru thought peevishly. This was not in the plan.

"Leaving now," he said instead. "Bye."

She looked affronted by his indifference.

"I demand that you stay! You're—"

"Totally uninterested. Gotta go."

He moved to step around her, but found himself blocked by a…

"Why is there a thirty-foot wall of cheese in front of me?" He turned to face his…well, _what is she anyway_, he wondered. The girl looked at him smugly, twirling a scythe around on her…_was that an extra finger?_

"You are not leaving, plebe. I already told you that _you shall not pass_."

Shikamaru grunted, and moved to make a few hand-seals to end her cleanly, but at the sight of her eyes, he stopped.

Gaped.

And finally, when he regained his composure, cleared his throat.

"Your name is…"

The regal nymphet smiled. Regally.

"I am Uchiha Inuyasha, heir to the throne of the Kingdom of—"

"I thought you were a Hidden Village."

"—the _KINGDOM_ of Chizu. I am blessed with the power of—"

"Right, right, whatever. Now—"

"How _dare_ you speak to me that way, you filthy plebe! I'll have you know that in my country—"

"I thought it was a kingdom—"

"—IN MY COUNTRY, such insolence is not tolerated!"

_God_, Shikamaru thought grumpily. _This chick could give _Ino_ a run for her money._

"Right, and you're…a princess?"

Instantly, her the air around her changed and morphed into something quieter, but, in Shikamaru's opinion, no less malevolent. Her eyes—a scarlet red color, with concentric rings within, and veins pulsing without—suddenly grew downcast, and her voice, which seemed to be set on _squeaky_ as default, lowered to a soft whisper.

"Yes. I am…a princess. A lonely princess."

She looked at his crotch meaningfully, and Shikamaru resisted the sudden urge to cross his legs.

"But," she continued, "that's not all. I'm a…_shinobi_ princess," she finished dramatically.

"…a _shinobi_ princess? You were trained to be shinobi?"

"Yes," she sighed, fluttering her lashes. "By the First Hokage of Konoha!"

Shikamaru's brain protested at the _owwie_ it had been dealt. He leaned against the block of cheese—which was surprisingly hard—in front of him, his fingers digging into it as though it were his last link to sanity.

"_Bzuh_—I mean, you're…how old, exactly?"

"Oh, you devil, you! A true lady never reveals her age to a gentleman who's courting her! You big silly!"

Shikamaru stared.

And stared.

And stared some more.

Finally, he shook himself out of his protective stupor.

"I'm sorry, your name is…"

"Uchiha Inuyasha," she replied coyly, the Amazonian warrior from earlier disappearing behind a mask of demure serenity. "But," she added breathily, "my admirers call me Emerald-chan." She stalked ever closer, her steps slow, but sure.

Shikamaru shook his head.

"Might I—oh God, should I? Oh, what the hell," he muttered to himself.

"Why," he called out, instead.

The…_princess_ widened her doe eyes at him, making him cringe.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Um…"

"Oh, of course not. Poor plebe. So uneducated. Clearly, it's because my eyes are the color of rubies and my hair is silken amethyst."

"…and so they call you Emerald?"

"Emerald-_chan_, darling."

"Right, right."

Shikamaru looked into her eyes once more, to make sure that he had seen them correctly. Unless he missed his guess—and he so rarely did—those concentric circles, and the bulging veins made her…well, a _very _interesting specimen indeed.

Not to mention the last name. If by some odd twist of fate, she had the familial connections he thought she did—never mind how _brain-breakingly_ _illogical_ it all seemed—perhaps there was something here.

It would be best, he decided, to take her back with him for further observations. If the gaudy jewelry she put out on display and the blindingly vibrant robes she donned were any indication, she was just a teenager playing dress-up. No respectable shinobi would walk out looking so conspicuous.

But her eyes…

He checked again, but no, this was no genjutsu.

Emerald-chan was watching him closely, her eyes devouring him.

"You…want me, don't you? I can see it in your eyes."

Shikamaru swallowed, and thought of Konoha.

"Would you…like to see it with me? My er, hometown, that is." He consoled himself with the fact that she probably wouldn't be leaving it unless she was in a body bag.

Emerald-chan clapped her hands.

"Oh, that's so cute! You want to introduce me to your family before the wedding! Well, let's go, then!"

She tapped the block of cheese with her forehead, and it vanished instantly.

"Let's go, darling! And on the way, you can tell me your name!"

_All I really wanted was to get home, give in my mission report, draw a hot bath, and sleep the rest of the day away_, thought Shikamaru morosely as he trudged home, Emerald-chan by his side.

Apparently, though, Fate had other plans.

* * *

The next installments of Naru/jailbait!SasuSaku!daughter, and the Naru-Lee alliance (HINT: CHAPTER 21), and this newest addition to my personal crack HOF are on the way, as is a more serious SaiTenten for Lotos-Eater, just to prove that my brain is still capable of something more coherent than this. XD


	29. living in canvas

**title: **living in canvas**  
pairing: ** Sai x Tenten  
**for: **Lotos-Eater**  
prompt:** black ink line

**summary:** She aches with the wanting, and for a moment, soaked in black forgets the color white.

**notes: **I find this pairing hot for some reason. Um. Yeah.

**disclaimer:** nope nope nope. not mine.

* * *

"Don't breathe," he says, hot breath brushing the nape of her neck, and she shivers, and tries to obey.

She does not see it, but his hand stands curved in a delicate arch, thin, pale wrists on the verge of flight and the ink _dripdripdrips_ down to pool in the hollows of her back. The coldness makes her shudder.

She gasps at the at the wetness, the feel of the bristles stroking her flesh, and—

_(her desire is a quiet revelation)_

he stops.

The feel of air hitting her back tells her he has moved away, and she aches for warmth. Her long brown hair, knotted, tangled mess that it is, is not nearly enough.

"You will stop moving," he states, a fact, not a question, not even a _demand_. His natural indifference—his unnatural state of certainty—is disconcerting, and she knows better than to move her head from its position on his bed. Lying here, face down, naked save for his own sheets, the smell of ink on her skin, and the feel of his fingers dancing graceful patterns against the ink on her back—

She aches with the wanting, and for a moment, soaked in black, she forgets the color white.

* * *

I demand a redo, mostly because it's so short. I had a whole scenario planned here, but Neji-muse—who, by the way, has stayed quiet for quite a while—protested.

I think I might explore this though. :)


	30. tell me your feeeeeeelings

**title:** tell me your feeeeeeelings  
**prompt: **PEER COUNSELING. 8D  
**pairing:** peripheral SasuSaku  
**rating: **C for Crack.

**summary: **AU. Total Crack. Peripheral SasuSaku. "Oh, Sasuke-kun! Your damaged psyche is so delicate that you hesitate—even at the cost of your healing!"

**notes: **Utter crack. Accidentally inspired by a conversation with Annie. BLAME HER. Also, as of the most recent chapters, this is _AU_, as I can't place it in any particular time frame. WOE. This is a continuation of Chapter 21—_happy happy joy joy_.

;-;

**disclaimer: **NOT MINE. And after reading this, aren't you _glad?_

* * *

Sasuke snuck a glance behind him, cursing inwardly at the telltale flash of leaf green.

Dammit—he thought he'd lost Lee three blocks ago. But then, Sasuke supposed that he hadn't make Chuunin on looks. He hefted his bag of groceries so that the tomatoes didn't dig into his forearm, and trudged through to the manor, sulking over his predicament.

The past two weeks had been nothing short of a depraved sort of hell, spawned by his _allegedly_ benevolent Hokage, and her two minions Tweedledee, and Tweedledumbass-or, as he supposed they were known to the rest of the populace, Rock Lee and Uzumaki Naruto. There had been more than a few scuffles in that time frame—mostly precipitated by his own refusal to take part in their inane exercises. The green leather-bound journal that Lee had presented him two days ago had him twitching in his seat; the loud neon brightness of it made him want to curl up and die, especially when he realized that Lee had taken precautions to make it flame-retardant.

"Now, Sasuke," he had said earnestly, doll-eyes unblinking and-though he refused to admit it—just-so slightly unnerving, "this diary is the key to your recovery. You are going to spend two hours a day meditating on the reason for your anger—"

"I already _know_ why I'm angry, you total fu—"

"Now now, bastard," said Naruto, clearly enjoying his position of power, "you know the rules. One wrong move and you'll be washing bedpans at the hospital." Suddenly, his eyes had taken on a maniacal glint. "And you'll be in the wing on the other side of Sakura's—so there won't be any of your stupid sexy sex games." He broke off then, heedless of Sasuke's growl, muttering about stolen innocence, and virgin hearts. Lee had evidently decided that politely ignoring him would be the best way to go.

"Right, Sasuke-kun. Naruto-kun has done well to remind you of the possible consequences of your naughty disposition. And may _I _remind you, that for the duration of this experience, you are to address both Naruto-kun and myself with the _titles_ befitting us."

Naruto leered in the background, his blue eyes filled with unholy glee.

"In short, no four-letter words."

Sasuke had glowered menacingly, to no avail.

"Fine," he had bitten out through gritted teeth.

"Fine, _what_," prompted Lee patiently, his folded hands resting against the white jacket Tsunade-sama had given him upon this most recent promotion.

Sasuke had mumbled something, unwilling to concede.

Naruto made a show of cupping a hand around his ear, in an effort to hear Sasuke's muttered words.

"_What_ did you say? I have a very hard time hearing _genin,_ these days."

Sasuke had thrown him a glare, promising both Death and Retribution—in that order—in the most Excruciating of ways.

"Fine, Lee-_sensei_."

Lee had clapped his hands enthusiastically.

"Wonderful! Now, we'll see you for the next session in three days. There should be two entries in your Journal of Youth, when we next meet. Good luck, Sasuke-kun!"

Now, looking back on it made Sasuke want to claw out his eyes.

He stepped in through the front door, noting the vase of flowers that Sakura had placed in the center of the dining room table, and paused for a moment—one tomato out of the bag and midway to his open mouth—remembered why it was so important that he go through the training. Sasuke shook his head, clearing it of its daze, and proceeded to the kitchen where he put away the groceries, quickly and efficiently.

The last thing he wanted was to be late for his appointment.

-

"What do you mean you didn't do your homework?"

They were playing good-cop/bad-cop, and Sasuke was getting tired of it. Just because he'd made up his mind to go to the stupid rehabilitation meetings, didn't mean he was going to actually lower himself to participating. He glared at nothing in particular, directing it at the walls of their old classroom, where this entire debacle had started. He was determined to ignore the blue eyes barely inches from his face, the usually loud, wide mouth devoid of its characteristic grin. Lee—he refused to use the suffixes when in the safety of his own mind—was leaning against the door looking disappointed, a frown fixed on his face. There were no sparklies today, and Sasuke decided he rather preferred it that way.

"Sasuke-kun," Lee said, his voice imbued with soft distress, "I am very disappointed in you. You have not been thinking about your feelings." He pulled out a chair and sat in front of him, resting his chin on his folded hands, in what Sasuke felt was a mockery of his own trademarked pose. Naruto seemed restless, and finally broke his gaze, moving to the front of the room. Sasuke heard the sound of shuffling papers, and saw Lee's eyes widen in realization before the strange doll-like gaze was once again on him.

"I think I know what your problem is Sasuke-kun."

He reached up to take whatever it was Naruto—who made a great show of blocking his way—was handing him, and Sasuke was almost disappointed to see that it was just a textbook. From the way Naruto was almost flailing his arms in his effort to keep him in the dark, Sasuke had expected the box of props near the cubby holes.

"Maybe next time—I don't think you're ready for those," Naruto said, and for one horrifying moment wherein he broke with objective reality and logic, Sasuke wondered if Tsunade had also conferred upon these two the power to _read minds_. Then, he relaxed, when he realized that his eyes had simply been on the item in question. Still, he shuddered, and turned back to Lee, ignoring Naruto's snickers.

"Is it possible," Lee began, his eyes still on the pages of the textbook, "that Sasuke-kun is insecure about his writing abilities, and so-because of his unfailing compulsion to be proficient at most everything he endeavors to complete-he is hesitant to share his feelings in written form? Is he afraid that we will think less of him, Naruto-kun?" He broke off at the possibility, his wide eyes shining with tears. Sasuke watched him with a carefully-concealed, appalled sort of horror. He opened his mouth to violently object, when Lee suddenly grasped him by the shoulders, pulled him over the desk, and—

("Oh my God," cackled Naruto.

"_Oh my God,_" croaked Sasuke, sounding very much like he wanted to die.)

—hugged him.

Sasuke flailed wildly in his tight grasp, dignity be damned, cringing at the feel of Lee's manly man tears soaking in through the back of his shirt.

"Oh, Sasuke-kun! Your damaged psyche is so delicate that you hesitate—even at the cost of your healing!"

Naruto tried very hard notto suffocate under the weight of his hilarity.

Finally, his grip slackened enough for Sasuke to escape. Lee dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief he seemed to conjure from thin air.

"Forgive me Sasuke-kun, that display was most unprofessional. I just—oh, the hurt! It reminds me," he said, softer this time as though he were speaking to an empty room, "of my own feelings as a child." He smiled again, and Sasuke stared, uncomfortable with the sudden feelings of almost-empathy stirred by that small revelation. Naruto shifted his weight, looking just as discomfited. For not the first time, Sasuke wondered why these two had been chosen by the Hokage.

"Well in any case," Lee began briskly, "we are going to do something different today."

"Oh really, Lee-sensei? What, oh, what might you have in mind?" said Naruto, bouncier now that the brief moment of gravity had passed.

"I'm glad you asked, Naruto-sensei!"

"..." said Sasuke.

Lee pointedly ignored Sasuke's seeming indifference, emanating confidence and almost-tangible sparkles.

"To begin, we are going to move our therapy session outdoors-into the refreshing bosom of youthful nature!"

"And why are we doing that, Lee-sensei?"

"The reason, Naruto-sensei, is quite simple! Originally I planned to have Sasuke-kun tell us his feelings in this journal—this you know, he did not do." Briefly, he turned a wounded look at the man in question, who looked away in response. "Then, I realized that it would be quite silly to expect him to want to talk to us about something so private if he still does not quite trust us with something so precious as his youthful memories!"

At that last statement, Sasuke drifted off, his mind traveling to visions of raining skies, and lost ones, and too-red blood, and the mournful whistle of the wind, and—

"Uh-oh. I know that look—it looks like he's angsting again, Lee-sensei. This sets us back another week, I think."

"Quite right, quite right, Naruto-sensei. We shall have to move past if we want to stay on schedule!"

"I'll fix it," Naruto said. In one swift movement, he'd slapped Sasuke hard enough to break him out of his stupor. Predictably, it degenerated to a brawl that Lee had to step in to stop.

"Good job," huffed Naruto, holding a hand to the side that Lee had kicked into a wall. Sasuke bared his teeth at him, looking for all the world like an irate raccoon, with the new rings around his eyes that Naruto had been gracious enough to give him during their little scuffle.

"As I was saying," said Lee primly, "we are going outside to teach Sasuke-kun the value of trusting others."

He turned his eyes on Sasuke, who flinched instinctively, like the wounded animal he resembled.

"Tell me, Sasuke-kun. Have you ever heard of the Trust Fall?"

* * *

I promise that there's more. Of course!


	31. never gonna let you go go

**title: **never gonna let you go go  
**for: **PINAFACE  
**pairing: **SasuSaku. SasuSaku!daughter & EHEHEHE.  
**prompt: **older men & tequila—this is me continuing and combining. :)

**summary**: AR. CRACK. SasuSaku. "Sasuke, please leave your psychological problems at the door when you come home for dinner. They cause indigestion, you know. Very unhealthy."

**notes: **A Beatles reference snuck up on me. Don't ask me how. Also, if you missed the memo, this is TOTAL CRACK. Please, don't look for sense here.

**disclaimer:** not mine. oh, but if it were…

* * *

"Daddy, please pass the buttered muffins."

"HE'S TWICE YOUR AGE. AND YOU'RE TOO YOUNG TO BE IN LOVE."

Megumi turned to her mother, unperturbed.

"Mother, please pass the buttered muffins. Daddy is too busy throwing a fit to do it himself."

Sakura smiled brightly at her daughter, passed her the freshly-baked muffins, and threw a dirty look at her husband—all while making sure that Kyoshi didn't spit out his mashed potato.

_Yes,_ Sakura thought serenely, patting Kyoshi's chin clean, _I am made of amazing._

She'd thought a lot about her daughter in the past few days since her sudden announcement. After stewing for a few days, and a few hours of quiet thought, she had come to a conclusion. Her daughter, as much as she wanted to protect her, was _growing up._ And like it or not, she would not be stopping anytime soon. Naruto was definitely not her first choice for her daughter's first suitor, and if she could have changed Megumi's mind, she would have the instant the words left her mouth.

But Megumi was swiftly growing into her own woman, and her decisions were her own—as were her mistakes. This misguided adoration, Sakura privately felt, was definitely one of her biggest, but again, it was _Megumi's_ heart.

Or well, apparently—at least for now—it was Naruto's

Though the idea of Naruto—ramen-guzzling, Sexy-no-Jutsu performing _Naruto—_being her baby girl's ideal…

Sakura shook her head at the follies of youth. _Still,_ she decided,_ this doesn't mean I won't remind Naruto about how proficient I am at the hallowed art of castration_. She turned to her daughter.

"Ignore him, darling. He'll soon get tired of being ridiculous and stop."

"STOP TALKING ABOUT ME LIKE I'M NOT HERE. I AM NOT RIDICULOUS. AND I WILL _NOT_ GET TIRED—I AM TIRELESS. I AM A MACHINE. I AM THE—"

"Walrus," Sakura replied absently, her brows knitted at the juice stain on Kyoshi's freshly laundered shirt. She'd have to soak that in cold water later, or risk it settling in, and staying. "We know, darling. You are all that is fierce and formidable, and we cower in your presence."

Sasuke looked almost wounded at her preoccupied reply, and went back to eating his sliced tomatoes, stabbing each one thoroughly with a vehemence that both his wife and daughter ignored. He silently wished for a bottle of tequila to make it all easier to accept.

To his right, Megumi had no such thoughts, too intent on enjoying her meal, now that she was in the Throes of Deepest, Purest Love.

"This ramen is delicious, Mother. Thank you for making it for me, tonight."

"Why thank you, Megumi. Eat up. There's more where that came from."

"I HATE RAMEN. IT'S LOUD AND IT TALKS TOO MUCH."

There was a clink, as Sakura finally looked up from their son, and peered at him with disapproving green eyes. Megumi looked betrayed, and Sasuke made sure he was avoiding her damning eyes.

"Sasuke, please leave your psychological problems at the door when you come home for dinner. They cause indigestion, you know. Very unhealthy."

Kyoshi burbled in agreement.

"I WOULD BE HEALTHIER IF THIS STUPID INFATUATION WERE BANISHED FROM MY DINING HALL."

He turned to Sakura with a scowl.

"YOU ARE FORBIDDEN FROM MAKING RAMEN. EVER AGAIN."

A visible tic formed near her left eye, but Sakura did not reply, only clenched her fists and counted to ten under her breath. Only when she was sure that she'd gotten the brunt of her anger under her control, did she deign to reply.

"I am not going to do what I want to do to you, Sasuke-kun. I am going to resist temptation—mostly because Kyoshi hates the color red, and bloodstains are hell to clean out of carpeting. Also, _one of us_, needs to remain in control and remember how to set a good example. That, and because intestines are not to be displayed where company can see them—no matter how moronic their owner."

Megumi burst into furious tears.

"That isn't fair! This isn't a 'stupid infatuation!' You and Mom were the same age I am now, when _you_ got married! Are you saying you were too young then?"

"THAT WAS DIFFERENT."

"How was it different? What, you had to restore the clan?" She sniffled, and for a moment, Sasuke felt regret.

Then, he remembered that he was only out to protect her innocence.

"He has to restore his clan, too, you know!"

All the blood in Sasuke's body seemed to freeze at the implication.

"AND YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING TO—SAKURA, WHERE'S MY KATANA?"

Sakura rolled her eyes and pointed to the study, but before he could move to get it, he stopped at the sound of Megumi's quivering voice.

"You never answered my question, Daddy. There's nothing different about you and Mother, and Naruto and I. Think about it—are you saying you weren't old enough to be in love with Mother?"

"…"

At his continued silence, Sakura began to seethe.

"…yes, darling, do tell. _Is that what you're saying?_"

Sasuke did not like the way his wife was so skillfully tossing that butter knife up and down, and eyeing his crotch meaningfully.

"…MMFLESNORFLEHER."

Megumi peered up at him, confused.

"What?"

Sasuke reddened.

"I SAID…ofcourseIlovedher."

"_Loved_," Sakura hissed in question. Kyoshi giggled at the way the light reflected off of the kunai his mother had now pulled out of her holster, after she'd thrown the butter knife into the wall.

"LOVE, LOVE, LOVE."

The kunai disappeared with startling quickness. Sakura beamed. Megumi stared in earnest.

"So then what's the problem?"

Sasuke turned to her so quickly that Sakura was quietly surprised that he didn't get whiplash.

"HE'S TWICE YOUR AGE, THAT'S WHAT."

"Who is?"

Three heads turned to the door in tandem. A blond, clad in white robes and a wide cone-shaped hat, grinned widely at the familial scene.

Sakura looked at their visitor, the way one might look at a piece of livestock one was interested in buying, circling him and murmuring to herself. Megumi went red up to her hairline, and squeaked out a greeting before rushing to her room, presumably to change into something a little more appropriate.

Sasuke growled threateningly, like a momma bear whose cub was now confronted by a potential predator.

Naruto took this all in stride, wondering what he'd interrupted.

"Hi there, Sakura-chan! Are you ready to ditch this _reject_," he asked jokingly, gesturing to the incensed Sasuke, "and come with me to my _Palace__ of_ _Love_?"

Sakura snorted, unimpressed, but before she could reply, Sasuke launched himself across the room, and latched on to Naruto's back, clinging on with the tenacity of a baby koala to its mother.

"YOU'LL NEVER HAVE HER, YOU DEVIANT PEDOPHILE. _NEVER_. I WON'T ALLOW IT."

Sasuke grappled for purchase, wrapping his arm tight against Naruto's throat, while the blond flailed around wildly, trying to buck Sasuke off his back. The result was a spastic sort of almost-dance, complete with swinging hips, and poking fingers—all moving in tandem to the raised voices and obscene gestures. Sakura stood near Kyoshi, a protective hand covering both his eyes.

There were some things that he wasn't quite ready for—would probably never be ready for—and watching his father attempt to assassinate the Nanadaime was one of them.

"Get the—get the hell _off_, I was just kidding, I'll bring her back this weekend, after we finish!"

This proclamation did nothing except increase Sasuke's already paramount rage.

"RAAAAH."

"Dammit, let go of my hair, bastard! It won't come off, no matter how much you want it!"

"Daddy!"

It was almost comical, Sakura mused, how quickly both men paused at the sound of Megumi's voice. Sakura turned to the dining hall entrance, a smile on her face, and a sly greeting on the tip of her tongue—

"OH MY—WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?"

—and then she blinked in realization.

Her baby girl was clad in a deep green eyelet top with a ruffled trim, and black skinny jeans. Her hair was carefully arranged in artless disarray, one strand falling strategically over one eye. Her lids had been painted charcoal, and was that—

"Are you wearing my mascara, Megumi?"

"WHO CARES. GO CHANGE—PREFERABLY INTO SOMETHING LARGE AND DARK AND SHAPELESS."

All these, Megumi ignored. Her eyes were trained on the blond standing a room away, who grinned at her with affection.

"Hi, Megumi-chan! You look really pretty in that color!"

Her cheeks flushed red at those words, and Sakura tried very hard not to hide a sentimental sniffle.

"Thank you," she said softly, her eyes lowered to the ground. Sasuke growled.

"MEGUMI, I SAID TO CHANGE."

Kyoshi giggled.

"I'm not listening, Daddy. We'll continue our discussion later. I," she said, "have some business to attend to at the moment."

Naruto snickered at the dismissal, and waggled his eyebrows knowingly.

"Going out to see your boyfriend, Megumi-chan? I'm disappointed! You didn't say anything when we talked today! Who is he? I need to check him out, and give you my approval don't I?" Naruto grinned widely, and walked over to pick Kyoshi up from his high seat, ignoring Sasuke's gnashing sounds. Sakura went into the kitchen to wash the dirty dishes, and to give Naruto a bowl of her ramen.

"See, that's why I asked you over tonight," Megumi said, ignoring her mother's gasp of surprise, and her father's indignant grunt, "there's something I need to tell you."

"I'm listening, Megumi-chan. What is it?"

Megumi looked at him from under her eyes, marveling at the light in his eyes, the easy grin, the strength in the lines of his face. He was so very beautiful, she thought, and it made her wonder how it was he'd avoided being married. But perhaps, she thought resolutely, it was just another reason to add to the list of others that told her that they were Meant-to-Be.

"The truth is—that is, I—"

"Naruto! Ramen!"

"Oh, thanks Sakura-chan! You know how much I love it homemade," he said, leering playfully to raise Sasuke's ire that much higher.

Megumi smiled, but it was a bit strained at the corners. She waited until he had finished his bowl, and tried again.

"That is…the reason I called you here was that—"

"SAKURA. I WOULD LIKE SOME RAMEN, TOO."

Sakura arched her brow knowingly at her husband's timely interruption.

"I thought you said you hated ramen."

"WELL, I WANT SOME NOW."

"Well, I'm sorry but we don't have any left. Naruto finished the last of it."

"WELL, GET BACK INTO THE KITCHEN AND MAKE MORE."

"…_Excuse me?_ I'm sorry, but, for a second there, I thought I heard you commanding me to get into the kitchen and make you some ramen—the same ramen, which, might I remind you, you so adamantly stated you hated earlier this evening. It sounds to me," she said in a soft hiss, ignoring Naruto's gasp of outrage at Sasuke's heated avowal, "that you're forgetting who you're speaking to, _Sasuke-kun_. I'm your wife, yes, but I'm also _kunoichi_—you'd do well to remember that."

Sasuke looked equal parts sheepish and terrified, but persevered. It would not do to lose face in front of the Enemy. He sniffed pointedly, and threw a glare at Naruto, which the blond ignored.

"…OK, FINE, WHATEVER YOU'RE NOT A HOUSEWIFE. I STILL WANT SOME RAMEN."

Sakura snapped.

"You will _stop_ yelling—"

"I'M NOT—"

"—and," she continued with quiet malevolence, "you will not _dare _interrupt me."

"…"

"Good boy. Now, you will stop your arrogant posturing, and your Mother-complex, and you will apologize to Naruto for being an inhospitable boor. And _then_, if you still want ramen, you will go to the kitchen, and _make it yourself _because Kyoshi and I will be going to sleep now."

That said, and Sasuke suitably admonished, she gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek, and threw a final "don't-you-dare-provoke-him-because-I-refuse-to-fix-the-bones-he-breaks" look to Naruto, before picking up the baby—who, by now, had been lolling and waiting for sleep in his powder-pink footie pajamas—and flouncing off to bed.

A few seconds later, she came back and gave Sasuke a goodnight more appropriate to the confines of their bedroom—complete with lips, teeth, and roving hands—leaving them both slightly dazed.

Naruto, disgusted as he was at the wanton display between his two best friends, turned to tease Megumi. He was startled by the look of longing in her eyes, and wondered who she'd been thinking about that warranted such a response. _A lucky guy_, Naruto thought to himself. Megumi was entirely too young for his own tastes, of course, but for a split second, Naruto thought gleefully about the apoplectic fit Sasuke-bastard would suffer if he dated and married his oldest.

Shaking his head at his own thoughts, he turned to Megumi with a smile, telling her that it was getting late, that he should really be going home. And, throwing a final _"good night, bastard-spawn!"_ at his still unresponsive best friend, he let himself out, shutting the sliding door behind him.

Megumi fumed inwardly, but paused. Perhaps the interferences were a blessing in disguise. After all, perhaps the gods were giving her time to figure out exactly how she should profess her love—the right words to rightly express how her heart skipped and faltered when she thought of him, how the hours seemed to melt in his company.

"I'm going to bed, Daddy. Good night."

She would wait a bit longer, she decided, as she padded her way to her room.

There would be time enough at the festival, that upcoming weekend.

She would wait.

* * *

Oh ho! What is Megumi planning? Probably nothing good.

And OK, there are some lines I will not cross. X)


	32. numbers

**title: **numbers  
**pairing: ** one-sided KarinSasu, implied SasuSaku  
**for: **pinaface  
**prompt:** dirty mistresses' club

**summary:** And in the end, numbers gave him away.

**notes: **done for Boot Camp.

**disclaimer:** nope nope nope. not mine.

* * *

And in the end, numbers gave him away.

There were seven in his pocket that didn't belong to her, and a three-inch smear of lipstick six shades too light for her lips on his collar. _The pout was wrong, and much too full_, she mused almost mechanically, as she scrubbed the remnants of infidelity away, but she recognized the curve of that lip, the four strands of pale pink on her pillow, and the scent of No. 5 that had made itself at home in the threads of off-white on their bed.

(She'd have to remind him to be more careful with the next one.)

He was twenty-three minutes too late for their lunch date on the third day of the July, and that they'd been seated at table six only compounded the unforgiving knowledge that she was no longer—_had never been_—the only one.

Karin had known what she was getting, twelve months ago when she'd said _I do_ at that small chapel on 5th, but it didn't make the living any easier.

Finally, eighteen minutes after she'd marked down the last straw—his seventh offense—he arrived, aloof and implacable, and utterly unashamed.

"I wanted to give you these myself," she began, pushing the sheaf of papers across the table, not caring that the teacups were sliding off. She'd calculate the damage later, and subtract it from her share of the settlement. "They're divorce papers, and I've signed my share. This partnership is over."

There were seven slots empty, and the only reaction he seemed to allow was an arch of the brow.

"For what it's worth, I never loved you."

And she heard the unsaid—_there's better than me. I'm not the best_. Sasuke, she mused thoughtfully, was kind in such odd ways.

"It helps," she said. "At least you didn't say, _we can_ _still be friends. _I would have broken your wine glass under my heels and slashed you with the shards."

"Charming," he quipped, signing the last line with an uncharacteristic flourish.

It was remarkable, she thought, how she could be sitting at the brink of an end and still feel so blank. Perhaps the sadness would come later, she thought, but she doubted it.

"Goodbye, Sasuke," she said, instead, watching his back as he walked away. "Happy Anniversary."

* * *

This is as close as I will _ever _get to writing Karin x Sasu. One-sided, and of course, he cheats on her with Sakura. :D


	33. the queen of wishful thinking

**title:** the queen of wishful thinking  
**pairing: **SasuSaku  
**for: **XxsasusakuxX, who asked for a SasuSaku

**summary: **I'll pretend my ship's not sinking.

**notes: **AU—this assumes that Sasuke returned to Konoha after chapter 306. I'll beat this horse 'til it's long past dust. Also, old 90s songs are my guilty pleasure, so kudos to those who recognize this.

**disclaimer: **not not not not mine, not mine.

* * *

Sakura is good at lying to everyone but herself.

She says hello to Ino when she passes by the flower shop, waving away the concern evident in the blue eyes that linger a heartbeat too long on the dark hollows underneath her eyes. She's just tired, she says, smiling. _Been working too many shifts lately, but I'll ask shishou for a break, I promise, so don't worry, yeah? We'll catch up later, after hours._ Theirs is a tired routine, long and worn by repetition, so Ino just sighs. It would be nice to rattle her, the blonde muses thoughtfully, to shake her until the pink bangs stopped shielding her green eyes—the only window to her truth, these days—but time is a luxury neither of them can afford. All she can do is nod, and watch worriedly as her best friend walks—stilted, awkward, tired steps—to yet another trying day.

Still, Ino thinks ruefully, shutting the door after her, there's only so much bend a body can take, and Sakura has long past the breaking point.

-

The hospital is her haven.

It has taken her a lot of guilty nights to come to this conclusion, and the realization still leaves a bitter taste in her mouth—_because what sort of physician was she that she took comfort in sorrows not her own?_—but it is as true as she can allow these days, and it is enough. She stitches wounds with practiced ease, and sets bones with an almost rhythmic sort of grace. The stream of patients is never ending, and the paperwork only slightly less taxing, but she revels in the distraction.

_Or rather_, she corrects herself sternly, _I revel in the _lack _of them_. The need for absolute focus, for total and absolute dedication, is a concept she can easily understand, and thankfully, this particular subject is far less punishing.

At the end of her day, she makes the trek to her master's office, wind-swift mind already working through the proper phrasing for her request.

"I would like," she says, as soon as the guards have left and only she remains, "to receive more hours at the hospital, Tsunade-shishou. I believe that the last six missions I've been on in the past three months are enough field experience, at least for now. Not many of the staff can stay there for very long, due to their families, and I could always use the time to practice the _jutsu _you teach me in Theory."

Tsunade watches her with quiet, knowing eyes. The sake cup is far from her lips today, and her words are soft.

"And what do you do, Sakura, when you are not in the hospital?"

It is an odd question, and one that her protégé evidently did not expect if the raised brow is anything to go by.

"Nothing productive," she says, and continues the reply in her mind. _Mostly I train, and eat, and sleep. I see people. Sometimes, I dream though, and that is unacceptable. _"I feel I would do better for Konoha in the hospital, than wasting away in stasis," she says, adding a small smile for effect.

Tsunade studies her with hawk-eyes, taking in the soft pink of her hair, the lucid green in her eyes. Her shoulders are set, and her spine is straight, and her hands are relaxed at her sides. Aside from a few circles under her eyes, there seems to be nothing amiss.

She nods. Sakura's demons are her own to exorcise, and she cannot deny that her hands would be far more useful in motion than in idleness.

That she recognizes the look in her eyes is irrelevant, she tells herself.

That she sympathizes, absurd.

-

"What's wrong with you?"

_Naruto is…difficult_, she thinks almost fondly, swirling the ramen in her bowl with careless swips of her chopsticks. So very determined to be the savior, even when there were no enemies to battle.

"Nothing," she says, accompanying her light assurance with a ready-made smile.

"Bullshit. I haven't seen you anywhere except the hospital in three months, and when you're home, all you do is sleep. You don't eat much, and Ino told me—"

"Ino talks too much," she interrupted blithely.

"She's just worried, Sakura-chan! And for the record," he said, leaving in so he could meet her stare head-on, "so am I."

"Well, you shouldn't be. I'm fine. I'll see you later," she says, slipping out of her barstool, and around him, careful to avoid his prying eyes.

"He's—" Naruto breaks off, not sure what to say, but Sakura doesn't break stride, doesn't turn around, doesn't even stop.

"—none of my concern. Good night, Naruto."

She's done, and tired, she thinks to herself, ignoring the sudden knot in her stomach, the tightness in her chest.

-

The memorial grounds are quiet in the morning, and quiet is the one thing Sakura will allow herself to want.

The air seems cleaner here, if a bit more bitter, imbued with a thousand tears. The melancholy is almost stifling, she decides, as she traces her fallen teacher's name in the unforgiving stone.

Kakashi-sensei had never been one to pry, had never been one to interfere in matters unrelated to their missions. Still, she could not help but wonder what he would have said to her. Perhaps, he would have laughed, and patted her head, leaving her with something annoyingly enigmatic.

He's not here today, though. Sakura is alone.

Closing her eyes, she clears her mind, and tries to remember, before rising again.

She leaves five minutes earlier. There's no comfort, there.

-

"You realize that this wasn't your fault, don't you?"

Sakura nods, biting her lip, glassy eyes staying straight ahead. The ANBU on her operating table convulses again, in the death throes, before finally falling still. Tsunade eyes her carefully, her own eyes having taken on a shine of indifference. Sakura knows better, though.

Her mentor is just a bad a liar as she is.

"Wash up, then. And don't come in tomorrow."

For a moment, it looks as though she might protest, but before she opens her mouth, Tsunade speaks again.

"He was a lost cause, Sakura. The wounds were too deep, and there was nothing you could have done for him." Mentally, Tsunade cringes at the comparison, though outwardly, she remains composed.

"There's no such thing as a lost cause," she replies, her voice a whisper of steel, before she loses herself again. Dully, she slips out of her surgeon's mask and unties her hair, leaving the dried blood caked on the apples of her cheek.

"I mean it, Sakura. Don't come in. You need to learn—"

"Distance," the girl echoes, her mind half-a-heart away. "It's…trying, shishou. _I'm_ trying."

"I know," Tsunade replies. "But you haven't learned yet, no matter what you tell yourself.

But, then, she's already gone.

-

Sakura's always had abysmal luck.

As she's walking home, blood-stained and still gasping with loss, she sees him leaning against the wall of a nearby apartment complex as though he's been waiting for her. The thought is absurd of course. He waits for no one, least of all, _her_—if the last few years have taught her nothing else, she remembers ruefully, they've taught her that much, at least.

She sinks into him, hands grasping at black fabric. He must have moved, she thinks dazedly, since she'd stopped short at the sight of him, and when she'd started to fall, she didn't hit the ground.

Still, his arms remain at his side, and he seems to allow only as much stability as will keep her upright.

"I can't do it," she whispers quietly, directing her words to the hollow of his throat. "I've tried, and tomorrow, I'll try again. But, I can't tonight."

"Aa," he says, in lieu of replying, his eyes sweeping over her with customary apathy. There's softness in his words, though—an almost-reluctance, mingled with an odd sort of gratitude.

"Tomorrow, then."

* * *

There's hope at the end—she wouldn't be Sakura without hope. :)

Please review.


	34. love fool

**title: **love fool  
**pairing: **JirTsuOro  
**for: **Annie  
**prompt: "**Which one of us can break your heart?"**  
summary: **Sometimes, when she forgets herself, Tsunade _remembers_.

**notes: **Also done for Boot Camp.

**disclaimer: **not not not not mine, not mine.

* * *

"He's asleep," he says, watching her with hooded eyes. Tsunade nods, and bites her lip to keep the weakness at bay. Her vest is soaked through with too-much blood, and none of it her own.

She thanks and hates Jiraiya with the same breath.

"Fool," she says, instead, hating the way her voice quivers, her eyes glass over. It wouldn't do to show such weakness, not now.

"He loves you, you know," Orochimaru says without feeling, as though he is commenting on the weather. "That's why he did it."

Tsunade shuts her eyes, suddenly tired, and in the same moment, he moves.

In an instant, she's pressed against the bark of a tree—_oak_, she thinks distantly, as though this is a dream she is only watching, and not a life she's living—her hands above her head.

Helpless, just the way he likes her.

He breathes her in, and she shudders, wonders if this is what treason feels like.

Jiraiya is lying prone, not three feet away, breath coming in fragile gasps, and she opens her mouth to let the other in.

"He loves you, you know," he repeats, like she didn't hear before. "But which one of us will break your heart?"

* * *

I really really liked this prompt, but I don't think I did it justice in this piece. This must be rectified.

Finally, I got a lot of questions in the review—honestly, I got more than I expected, so thank you!—for the last chapter, and I apologize for the confusion. :( I've PMed everyone who has asked about it though, so let me know if I'm still unclear. I'll probably go back and edit it later on.


	35. thanks for the memories

**title:** thanks for the memories  
**pairing:** the usual suspects—that is, SasuSaku, ShikaIno, NaruHina, and NejiTen  
**for: **_coconut.mandarin_, who asked me for drunk!fic.

**summary: **AU. Drunken crack!fic. In which the boys find out why leaving Naruto alone with unattended drinks ranks right up there with trying to separate Kakashi from his porn.

**notes: **A thousand apologies to _coconut.mandarin_, for the delay in the NejiTen. I have an outline, but the words haven't been coming. I'll get back to that as soon as the muse strikes again, though. **Also, some indelicate phrasing, courtesy of icky drunk boys.**

_Doburoku _is home-brewed Japanese sake, sometimes compared to moonshine.

**disclaimer: **not not not not mine, not mine.

* * *

"I'll have another Screwdriver, please," Neji said, stepping over Naruto's fourth pile of vomit with a singular look of distaste. Or was it the fifth? He couldn't really remember—the green and orange looked too similar under the fluorescence, and the stench was about the same, really. He thanked Sasuke with a curt nod before making his way back to his seat, to nurse his drink.

"Pussy-man! Have a real drink! Just 'cuz your hair's girly, doesn't mean you have to be!" Neji was saved from the indignity of having to answer to the Neanderthal by—

"_DAMMIT _THAT HURT!"

"Good," Sasuke sniffed, taking another sip of his drink. Naruto narrowed his eyes, thoughtfully.

"You too, Emo-Princess, with your stupid Vodka Red Bulls. What the hell's wrong with you? Did you forget how to hit while you were with Prissy Pants? You have to slap people to end your fights now? What the hell was that, anyway?"

"That," Shikamaru answered drolly, "is what is colloquially referred to as a dummy smack. Aptly named, in this particular instance." He took a swig of the beer in his hand, before pouring himself _o-sake_. "Why are we here, again?"

"We're _here_," Naruto said to the potted plant in the corner, "to celebrate my last year as a free man!"

"…you're getting married _tomorrow_, Naruto. Remember?"

The blond blinked blearily, before nodding to himself.

"Oh yeah! Absolutely. Totally—I remember!"

"Idiot," Sasuke sneered.

"Moron," Neji added, not relishing the idea that this lump of intoxicated flesh would be part of his extended family come noon the next day.

"Troublesome," Shikmaru added. "I need a smoke." He stepped out into the balcony of Naruto's top-floor office, and shut the door behind him.

Neji picked up his drink, intending to take another sip of his drink, when a sudden vibrating noise came from the vicinity of his pants pocket. Naruto leered.

"_Hey_, Neji. Didn't know you were into the kinky stuff."

Neji gave him a scathing glare before moving into the hallway to take the call in private. Sasuke, unwilling to deal with Naruto, excused himself to go to the rest room down the hall, leaving the blond swaying on his feet.

At least, until he was sure that he was alone. Then, he allowed himself to straighten to his full height—a respectable 5'10—before patting the glass bottle in his right pocket, and the tape recorder in his left. Grinning, he made his way to Neji's drink, and poured in three shots of the milky-white liquid.

He'd always known that his ability to vomit on command would come in handy one day.

-

"What's this…"

"It's milk for a growing-boy, bastard! Drink up!"

"This doesn't taste like—_mmphglorfle._"

"My drink smells funny."

"Don't be silly! What, you think I'm trying to drug you?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if—"

"That's _crazy _talk. There's more where that came from, so don't worry about taking big sips!"

"Weren't you drunk?"

"There you are, Shikamaru! Here's your drink…"

-

"…and Sakura never ever ever lets me top, ever! Ever!" Sasuke hiccuped pitifully, looking like he was on the verge of tears.

Naruto did too, but for completely different reasons. He hadn't realized how absolutely amazing and divine and _wonderful _alcohol was until just this moment. Silently, the blond thanked every god he could remember—and a few he'd made up just for the occasion—for his father's insistence that there be security cameras in every office of his building.

This was just too, too precious. Grinning maniacally to himself, he nodded sympathetically in tandem with Sasuke's drunken rambling.

"She just…just…gets the handcuffs out, and I'm just done for! Oh sure, sometimes, I get to hold the whip, but only when she's not looking and she always catches me and—" he broke off, and sniffled, rubbing his hands over his face blearily. _My God, _Naruto thought gleefully, _he's totally trashed._

"That's nothing," Neji said. In stark contrast to the ordered picture he made earlier, his hair was now loose from its customary queue, and his eyes were dazed. His Windsor knot was square-shaped, and the first three buttons of his shirt were undone. "At least she doesn't make you wear anything _weird_. Tenten's had me in the pony suit more times than I care to remember. And, and…I just…I can't hear the word _banana_, without feeling dirty," he revealed, looking away.

Naruto wondered if he was looking for his dignity.

"I know what you mean," Sasuke commiserated. "Whenever I hear _Nasdaq_, a little part of me dies inside."

"Ino won't let me wear anything to bed," Shikamaru said, continuing the tale of Male Woe solemnly. "She expects me to be ready for it anytime of the night, and sex is great, and she's beautiful, but sometimes, I just can't, and _I'm so tired of feeling like a piece of meat_! I am not a toy monkey," he said, showing more passion in the past hour than he had in all the years Naruto had known him sober. "I can't just…_perform_ whenever she wants me to!"

"We should fight this," Sasuke said, swaying. Naruto had to give him credit. He'd taken five shots of moonshine like a man, before starting in on his relationship woes. Neji had succumbed after three, but Shikamaru had taken a surprising _six_, before spilling his guts. The blond decided that he owed everything in his life, up to and including his first-born child to the god called _doburoku_.

Speaking of which, he'd have to leave an extra large bonus check for the cleaning service tomorrow. By the looks of this place, he decided, they'd definitely have earned it.

He settled back into the cushions of his leather couch and gave a thumbs up to the four cameras in each corner, safe with the knowledge that every single moment of this most epic night of traumatizing debauchery was being captured for posterity.

Or well, for something more immediate, and far less lofty.

Like a wedding reception.

-

"I'm going to kill you, Naruto!"

"No time, no time! Gotta get ready, gotta get married, go go go!"

"Dead last, your ass is mine."

"You'll have to take that up with Hinata-chan, bastard, but—"

_"I'll kill you_."

"Ne, _Neji-niisan_ said that already, Sasuke-teme."

"You're so lucky I'm hung-over, Naruto, or I'd be helping them."

"Yeah, yeah, save it for later, we gotta go! I can't wait until the reception."

"Hungry, moron?"

"Oh, no. No. Not hungry."

"…then, what? I don't like that smile."

"Oh, _would you look at that_—gotta go get married!"

"Naruto!"

"Idiot."

"What a drag…"

-

The reception was going wonderfully, or so Naruto thought. He could hardly wait. If the clock on the other side of the ball room was correct, he had only another two minutes to wait before The Unveiling.

"Dead last wanted us to get him strippers," Sasuke said with faint disapproval, three seats down from the happy couple. The lights were going low now, and Naruto could almost taste the victory. "But we refused." He looked smug at Sakura's delighted smile, and smirked into the kiss she insisted on giving him as a reward.

"Oh yes, Sakura-chan. They did refuse to get me strippers. But that's OK," Naruto said, almost innocently, sipping at his champagne.

"They gave me something a lot better."

Just then, Hanabi rose from her seat, ready to begin her role as Master of Ceremonies.

"Friends, family, and loved ones," she began, looking at Naruto with scheming eyes. In reply, the blond simply winked back. "Thank you for coming to celebrate the wedding of my beloved older sister, to the other half of her mold, Uzumaki Naruto. To begin the program, the groom has compiled a tape of his fondest memories, made to showcase some of the _finer_ moments in the span of this courtship…"

* * *

I - I think I want to expand this. Someone stop me, plzkthnx.


	36. like a virgin

**title:** like a virgin  
**pairing: **SasuSaku

**summary: **"OK, seriously, Sasuke? You're really going to just _stand there_ and look at me? I'm _hot_," she said, gesturing to her body. "I've been after you since forever! But, more importantly, I'm horny, I'm half-naked, and I'm saying _yes_! OH GOD, I WANT SO BADLY TO BE SAYING _YES_! In various high-pitched voices, but I can't, because all you're doing is _staring._ So either finish what you started, or leave so I can do it myself," she finished, panting with exertion.

**notes: **This hit me and would not go away, so I wrote it before I forgot.

**disclaimer: **not not not not mine, not mine.

* * *

His kisses were heated, almost frantic, as he pushed her inside his apartment, moving her back with his body, and fumbling with the lock of the door behind him. This had been a long time in coming—the culmination of secret heated glances, longing sighs, and seven, long, _frustrating_ years of patience, and she planned on enjoying every moment of it. Sakura squeaked as he nipped a particularly sensitive part of her neck, moaning when he kissed the skin in an almost silent apology. Sasuke ran his hand through her hair, and allowed the other to wander under the hem of her shirt, skating across the skin of her abs with an almost tentative lightness.

"Sasuke!" she said through gritted teeth, tired of his teasing.

His only response was a smirk that made her stomach drop down to the vicinity of her knees, and a renewed assault on the skin bared by her bra. Sakura, using the hold she had around his neck as leverage, lifted herself up to wrap her legs around his waist, shrugging off the shirt Sasuke had pulled away from her body. The harsh breath that ruffled her hair was the only reaction she received, before he moved, trapping her against the wall with his body. She gasped at the sensation, before pouting inwardly. Clearly, she would have to work harder if she wanted control with _this _man.

_Well_, she thought determinedly, _so be it_.

She ran a small hand over the raised fabric of his black regulation _jounin _pants, and smirked inwardly at the muttered curse. As she allowed her satisfaction to shine on her face, she slipped her hand in past his waistband, her fingers instantly alighting on her goal.

"Sakura," he ground out, resting his forehead against her shoulder. His hand tightened reflexively in her hair, and she let out a small yelp as she felt a few strands pulled out.

"Sasuke, you're kind of—dammit, _ow_!"

"Shut up," he said, sulking at the pink strands in his hand. Suddenly, Sakura was glad he'd left the light on when he'd gone this morning as she got a full view of a blush dusting the planes of his cheeks.

"Are you blushing?"

"Stop talking," he said in reply, swooping down again to silence her in the best way he knew. Unfortunately, he'd misjudged his angle of attack, and knocked his forehead into her nose.

"Ow!"

He narrowed his eyes in concentration, giving her the sudden urge to laugh.

And then, he slipped his shirt off and over his head, leaving him bare to the waist, his heated eyes running over the skin he'd exposed to his view. Sakura felt her mouth go dry at the hunger in his eyes, as the impulse to giggle melted away, leaving an entirely _different _sort of want tying her stomach in knots.

Sakura was sure that no man she'd ever been with had accomplished with his hands what Sasuke was doing with his eyes.

After a few minutes of silence, Sakura squirmed. Sasuke hadn't moved, seemingly content to stare. _Honestly, _she grumped, _he acting like he doesn't know what comes next_.

"Sasuke, what are you—"

He interrupted her question with another kiss, his hands fumbling over the smooth strap of her bra. His movements grew increasingly frantic, and after a few more moments of his skittering fingers, Sakura pulled back with a low groan. His hands didn't stop their movement, and after a moment, she reached behind her and pulled them away, her eyebrows scrunching to meet in the middle.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Sasuke-kun?"

He looked at her, disbelief etched on her every feature.

"Obviously, I'm trying to get _that_," he said, gesturing to her bra, "off."

Sakura arched a brow.

"It's a front clasp."

"…a front-clasp." _What the hell was a front clasp?_

Sasuke fumbled for a moment, mouth agape, before shaking himself out of his daze. He reached down to the holster strapped to his thigh, and slipped a _kunai _out, intending to divest her of that pesky scrap of lace with as little fuss as possible. _Just one swipe_…

Sakura, however, was having none of it.

"Sasuke-kun! This is my _best _bra! You are _not _slicing and dicing it just because you don't know how to take it off like a normal person!"

He made an expression that on any other person would have been a pout. On him, Sakura mused, it was a sullen sort of glower. Still, she was not going to stay content with that, no matter how adorable it made him look.

"OK, seriously, Sasuke? You're really going to just _stand there_ and look at me? I'm _hot_," she said, gesturing to her body. "I've been after you since forever! But, more importantly, I'm horny, I'm half-naked, and I'm saying _yes_! OH GOD, I WANT SO BADLY TO BE SAYING _YES_! In various high-pitched voices, but I can't, because all you're doing is _staring._ So either finish what you started, or leave so I can do it myself," she finished, panting with exertion.

Sasuke gaped. Then, opened his mouth, only to shut it again, as though he were afraid of what his revelation would do to the mood. _Then again,_ he decided ruefully,_ it's not as though we're exactly fraught with tension right now._

He sighed.

"God woman, would you shut up? I'm new at this."

And in that instance, time seemed to stop.

"You've…never done this before," she asked, her voice cracking in the middle. Suddenly, she felt a rush of affection for the man in front of her. He'd lived his life as a vehicle for the dreams of other men. His father, Orochimaru, and Itachi—always, always Itachi. He'd never indulged himself, had never stopped to wonder what living a life without his own burdens would feel like. It shouldn't have surprised her that he was still…untouched_._

This brief moment of sympathy was quickly followed by the uncontrollable urge to cackle.

"It's not like losing it was exactly one of my biggest priorities, you know," he groused, and Sakura thought that he would have looked more intimidating if he hadn't been sulking.

And a virgin.

_Oh God, Sasuke's a Virgin. Virgin virgin virgin…_

Well, she would just have to take care of that, wouldn't she?

She took the _kunai_ he hadn't let go of, and ran the tip through the clasp that plagued him so, loving the way his eyes followed her movement. When she was finished, the wisp of lace was in cut neatly in half.

"Don't worry, Sasuke-kun," she said, her green eyes twinkling, as she pounced, and pushed him flat on his back. She smirked widely at his muffled grunt.

"I'll be gentle."

* * *

I'm fairly sure that I officially fail at life.

AND OH MY GOD. I PASSED 400 REVIEWS.

(loves all of you :)

And, and, and, - is everyone getting their alerts, yet? Because I'm not. D:


	37. terms of endearment

**title: **terms of endearment  
**requester: **_lapse in judgement_  
**pairing: **NejiTen**  
prompt: **muffin  
**summary: **It was amazing how he managed to turn tentative questions into definitive statements. Clearly, Hyuuga Neji needed to be taken down a few notches and she was just the girl to do it.

**  
notes:** NejiTen! Maybe this will move my muses along, yes?

**disclaimer:** Absolutely not mine.

* * *

"How about sugarplum?"

"…Are you retarded?"

She laughed, short and sweet, and he didn't regret the lack of characteristic composure in his last comment.

"No? Hm…pumpkin patch? Or maybe babycakes…oh wait no, that's Sasuke's."

"…Tenten…"

"No, no, wait! I've got it."

"…"

"…"

"Well?"

Tenten huffed, clearly offended by his lack of interest. She didn't understand why he was being so difficult about it. All the other boys had them—

_(even Sasuke, _she thought, _and if Sakura can get that EmoKid to loosen up and take it, then she should be able to do the same for her own ball-and-chain)_

albeit, not by choice, but who cared about little things like free will? It was totally overrated, in her very honest opinion.

"Tenten. You are listening, of course."

It was amazing how he managed to turn tentative questions into definitive statements. Clearly, Hyuuga Neji needed to be taken down a few notches and she was just the girl to do it.

"Ne, Neji, sorry. I got distracted. But aren't you going to ask me what it is?"

"…Must I?"

"Yes, you must."

"…" He sighed, as if hoping to communicate to the world at large how truly selfless he was, putting up with such _bumpkins_

_(and yes, he loved her, as wholly as she might have wished, and yes, no arguments there, but really—)_

"Is this absolutely necessary?"

Tenten pouted.

"Of course it is! Do you think I'd embarrass you if I didn't think it was worth it? Now come on, and let me tell you, yeah?"

"…I don't have a choice."

_(and then she smiles, artlessly brilliant, effortlessly beautiful, and he thinks perhaps it might be worth it—)_

"All right , Neji. From now on, your new pet name is…"

She smiled, impishly.

"…muffin."

Neji despaired.

* * *

This was written a frillion years ago, but I forgot to upload it because I'm ridiculous. :)


	38. one art

**title: **one art  
**pairing: **SasuSaku; Team 7 vaguely alluded to, but not really.  
**summary: **SasuSaku. The art of lying isn't hard to master. "Tell me something true," she says, and he tries.

**notes: **Sasuke can cry. This thrills me. Summary line and title references Elizabth Bishop's _One Art_.

**disclaimer: **So not mine, stop reminding me! D:

* * *

**i.**

"Tell me something true," she says, and he tries.

**ii.**

He tells her that Konoha will fall and Naruto will die.

"It won't fall without you," she points out, "and you are here with me."

This is true, and he slips away to try another day.

**iii.**

"Again," she says, and there's no need for repetition.

He tells her that he hates her.

"You've kept me alive," she replies, placidly, "and you already have a medic."

**iv.**

On the third day, Sasuke doesn't wait.

"I'm not sorry," he says. "I don't regret it."

"But you're crying," Sakura answers.

**v.**

Sasuke cannot lie.

* * *

One more before I leave later - only for the week though, don't get too excited! :)


	39. baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaby animal

**title: **baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaby animal  
**pairing: **SasuSaku; Team 7 vaguely alluded to, but not really.  
**summary: **Pre-assbow. CRACK. Sasuke hates baby pandas with an inexplicable passion. But definitely not because they took her attention away from him. Because he totally didn't care. Really.**  
notes: **MILD CROSSOVER with FMA. If you don't know the series, don't worry. Just know that Xiao Mei is the cutest baby panda EVER. EVER.

**notes: **If I ever get around to it, I'll write the _other_ fic connected to this. :) Also, I have no idea if Xiao Mei has a gender, but I'm making him male…?

**disclaimer: **So not mine, stop reminding me! D:

* * *

"Stupid cat-panda-thing," Sasuke said, turning away from the tableau in front of him.

Honestly, Sakura acted like she'd never seen one before.

He ignored the small voice that said she probably hadn't. After all, how many baby pandas passed through Konoha?

_Still, _he reasoned, huffily, _that's no reason for her to get all excited. _It was just a stupid ugly _panda, _after all. The last time Sasuke checked, there hadn't been any reports of baby pinadas being able to blow fireballs, or having cool red-twisty bloodlines, or saving _annoying_, pink-haired nuisances. Nope, there had been none of that. There hadn't been any born with painfully tragic pasts, or traitorous siblings, or darkly-brooding good looks, or—

"Sasuke-kun, look! Xiao Mei knows how to juggle kunai!"

_I could do that_, he thought, sullenly. (Un)fortunately, Sakura wasn't paying attention.

"You are the sweetest little thing in the world, aren't you?"

Xiao Mei purred in contentment, and flailed fitfully on the ground, inciting yet another round of giggles from the pink-haired kunoichi. Sasuke turned away in annoyance.

He'd had enough.

"Sakura. Training."

She looked up, blushing.

"Oh! Right."

She turned away from him to say her goodbyes to the panda's owner, and Sasuke turned away to watch for Naruto's coming, before he felt a nudge at his ankle.

"What the hell do you want," he said, venom imbued in his every word. Stupid panda-cat.

Of course, Xiao Mei did not reply. At least, not verbally. Instead, the demon spawn chose to flop down next to his right foot with all the grace of an elephant. Sasuke sneered at it with distaste.

"Sasuke-kun!"

He turned towards his female teammate with a blank look on his face, careful to conceal the antipathy he held towards that…_thing_. It wouldn't do for the girl to find out that he'd been talking to the monochrome furball.

"What?"

"Mei Ling needs to see Hokage-sama for something, and I asked if we could take Xiao Mei along to training with us. And she said _yes_! Isn't that great?"

"..."

"She'll be back to get her, later." That said, she bent down and scooped the baby animal up into the cupped palms of her hands, nuzzling it.

"Sakura, stop. You're…scaring it. If you want," he said looking away, "I can hold it."

As if response, Xiao Mei curled into a ball, and shuddered. Sakura giggled.

"I don't think Xiao Mei likes you, Sasuke-kun."

"Feh." The feeling was totally mutual, but she didn't need to know that.

Sakura petted Xiao Mei, and placed him on her shoulder.

"Let's go!"

She walked ahead, giggling a little at the feel of the panda fur.

Xiao Mei, for his part, knew who his enemies were. After making sure Sasuke was watching him, he made a show of baring his teeth, in a belligerent grin.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes.

_This_ was obviously war.

* * *

See you guys in a week!


	40. a pit or a pearl?

**title: **a pit or a pearl?  
**pairing: **No pairings, really. :)  
**summary: **_cherry apple wine_deleted scene. Sakura had long ago decided that a bruised ego was a small enough price to pay when it came to her aptitude in the kitchen. Her fruit-picking skills were mediocre at best. Still, she lamented, they were far better than her man-picking skills.

**notes: **I guess this would work as a stand-alone. However, to get the gist, one would have to read the fic.

That was _not _blatant self-pimping. _At all._

Anyway, this did not quite make the final cut but I thought it would be a shame to waste it, really. Expect my next chapter out soon, yes?

**disclaimer: **So not mine, stop reminding me! D:

* * *

"You know, Sakura…" Tenten said, waiting a few moments to ensure that the Beast was Gone.

The girl looked up from where she'd been looking at the plums. _Would the Bluebyrd, or the Golden Drop be sweeter_, she wondered, not really paying attention to her friend's sudden daze. And where was Hinata, anyway? She was the one who usually picked out the produce. Sakura had long ago decided that a bruised ego was a small enough price to pay when it came to her aptitude in the kitchen. Her fruit-picking skills were mediocre at best.

Still, she lamented, they were far better than her man-picking skills.

"Sakura? Are you listening?"

"Oh! Sorry, Tenten—you were saying?"

The brunette rolled her eyes, shaking her head a little at her friend's state of obliviousness.

"I was just saying Sakura, that maybe Ino and I haven't been paying enough attention to you lately."

Sakura quirked a brow at her in question, finally deciding on two of each plum. She'd let them decide who got which kind.

"What are you talking about, Tenten?"

"Well, don't take this the wrong way or anything…"

"Oh, God." Sakura groaned inwardly. Tenten was notorious for her lack of tact, and those exact words had preceded many a mini-catfight between her and Ino. She braced herself against the blow, clutching the bar of the shopping cart for added effect. Tenten, for her part, ignored the dramatics, and barreled on, as she always did, with all her good intentions.

"All I'm saying is, it's been a while since you've been out on a date, Sakura. And it's very possible that your years of being a social pariah have left you unable to distinguish between a _bad _date and a _good _one. So, I'm going to help you out. _Bad_ date, Sakura. _Bad, bad _date!" She accentuated her repetitions with small stamps of her feet, and Sakura released the breath she'd been holding.

That had been far less than Tenten's usual diatribe.

* * *

Heee. There may or may not be more of these in the future. :)


	41. the voyeur

**title:** the voyeur**  
pairing:** SasuSaku**  
for / prompt:** anonymous, who asked for something written around the lyrics of The Pierces's _Three Wishes_. My apologies, as this just barely touches upon a few lines. D:

**summary: **"Are you happy," he asks, almost-wistful, almost-sorry, and really, it's almost enough. "No," she replies. "But, I'm getting there."

**notes: **Snaps for OOC!Sasuke, because he's not the type to wax poetic.

**disclaimer: **not not not not mine, not mine.

* * *

He watches her, sometimes.

Not always, not often, not enough that it's noticeable—only when the lights are particularly low, when the moonlight is at its softest, when the place they're in is at its loudest.

Only when she isn't looking.

It's her fault, really. Her hair's so bright, and her eyes, so very green. It's hard not to be attracted to color after being freed from a life lived in monochrome—blacks and whites and endless grays, with the occasional splash of red. So really, he can't be blamed for looking at her, even if it is just once in a while.

She's laughing again—and she does that a lot now, but never with him—and he feels his grip on the glass in his hand tighten with sudden tension. Her smile is crooked, he thinks viciously, and her hair shorn—a casualty of her latest mission—and there's a bruise blooming on the inside of her thigh, and—

He can't look away.

He tries—transfers his gaze to the wooden doorway that's seen better days, to the trail of smoke coming from the bar, to the table of almost-friends located nearest the back of the room. It never stays though.

It always seems to lead back to her.

Sometimes, he wonders about it—the future he could have had. There would have been fighting, he knows, smiling sardonically. He is Sasuke, and she is Sakura, and their ending could never be so easy. There would have been smiles too, though. Careful healing, and quiet glances, tea in the morning, and soft touches in the evening. Her breath on his face when she kissed him awake, and his hand around her waist to keep her close, even in sleep. And maybe, perhaps, there would have been—

But then he stops himself, because he'd never really done well with regret. It's not worth thinking about the possibilities, he decides, not anymore.

He knows this, but something in him needs to hear it. So he walks—slowly, so his steps sound heavy against the bar floor. He's giving her an out, a chance to move away so she won't have to speak to him.

He likes to think he's a bit more noble for it—a bit more worthy of her, even if that doesn't really matter anymore.

But she doesn't move, only watches him with her solemn eyes.

He stops—three steps before the end, and a heartbeat away from knowing.

"Are you happy," he asks, almost-wistful, almost-sorry, and really, it's almost enough. _Are you happy without me_, he finishes silently, too tired of reaching for satisfaction, and only closing around air. She is the pinnacle of the road he had not taken, the light at the end of the tunnel that he had never quite reached.

It has taken him eight years, six months, and twenty-two days to realize this, and it leaves bitterness in his mouth—a bit like regret, he thinks, but he can't be sure. He's never tasted it before.

In the next moment, she looks up, and for a moment, the rest of the world falls away.

"No," she replies, soft and low—not just a little bit tired. "But, I'm getting there."

_So that's it_, he thinks, and he wonders where the urge to laugh comes from. He's happy for her—for her prospective happiness. And he wishes her as well as he can, which he imagines, these days, is a bit below her standards, but then, it's fitting, he supposes.

"Good," he says instead. "Good," he says, because saying twice will make it more True.

He walks around her, careful to respect the distance she's kept, places the full amount for his tab on her table, and turns around to leave.

There's nothing here for him—not tonight. Not anymore.

He tries not to be sorry.

* * *

There will be happiness, I promise.


	42. coo coo cachoo

**title:** coo coo cachoo  
**pairing:** Mikoto/Naru!boys, peripheral SasuSaku  
**for:** Pinaface, who according to my estimation, owns my typing fingers.  
**prompt:** milkshakes_—oh Lordie._  
**summary: **Non-massacre AU. CRACK. MikotoNeji. MikotoNaru!boys. Peripheral SasuSaku. In which Mikoto is hot, Neji tries to play the game, and Sasuke contemplates the merits of first_—_degree murder.  
**notes: **CRACK.

**warnings: **Er, jailbait? And innuendo.

What? You guys had to know this was coming. :D

**disclaimer: **not not not not mine, not mine.

* * *

Konoha _loved _Uchiha Mikoto.

Uchiha Fugaku loved that she wore her hair up when they were alone, and down when they were in public—that there was a part of herself that she kept hidden from prying eyes, a part of her that was _his _and his alone. He loved the curve of her hip, and the darkness of her eyes, the strength in her hands, and the softness in her touch.

Uchiha Itachi loved that she stood up to the family elders, that she'd spoken out when there'd been talk of overthrowing the Hokage, of wresting control away from those who rightly held it. He loved that she packed his _bentou _with just the right amount of tomatoes, and never spilled the _bonito _flakes over the rims of the partitions.

Uchiha Sasuke loved that she smelled like home, like peace, that there were always _onigiri _waiting for him when he got home from missions, and that she never teased him about his pink-haired girlfriend, the way the rest of the family seemed to insist upon doing. He loved that she hadn't laughed at him three months ago, after he'd asked her to mend his well-worn _Roary-chan—_a keepsake for Sakura on her fifteenth birthday.

Umino Iruka loved that she always had time to help out at the SPTA meetings, even while she was juggling the management of a large household, the stress of her shinobi missions and the demands of her…_wifely _duties.

Yuuhi Kurenai loved that the Uchiha matriarch was so willing to take a fledgling jounin under her wing—loved that she was so willing to impart knowledge about the many tricks of the trade she'd learned after ten plus years of doing what so few women had the strength to do.

Tsunade loved that she made a fair drinking partner, and that she never remembered what happened the night before, on the morning after.

Jiraiya loved that she bathed at the public bath house to be closer to rest of the village women, even though the Uchiha compound had more than a fair amount of their own personal _onsen_.

Everyone in Konoha seemed to love something about her—her wit, her grace, her beauty, or her character.

For Uzumaki Naruto, Hyuuga Neji, and Nara Shikamaru, the reason couldn't be more obvious.

After all, Uchiha Mikoto, made the best milkshakes in all of Fire Country.

-

"Boys! The milkshakes are ready!"

In tandem, three pairs of eyes turned to look at the woman making her way to their seats on the front porch.

Shikamaru sweated.

Naruto gulped.

Neji smirked.

"Thank you, Uchiha-sama," he said, attempting to pitch his voice two octaves too low. The result was an odd sort of croaking sound that had Naruto hiding his snickers, and Shikamaru rolling his eyes.

Mikoto beamed.

"No, no! You're Sasuke-chan's friends! Please call me Mikoto."

"A name worthy of your loveliness," Neji said, smirking. "If I may be so bold."

"Thank you, Neji-kun! Aren't you sweet?" She blew out an exasperated breath. "My goodness, it's certainly hot today."

She raised a hand to wipe the sweat off her fevered brow. The movement caused her blouse to ride up, exposing an inch of pale peach skin. The fabric pressed closer to the heat of her body, stretching taut against the expanse of her—

"Oh my _God_," Naruto squeaked, thanking every deity he could remember for unannounced heat waves.

Shikamaru cleared his throat.

"We're sorry about the inconvenience, Mikoto-san."

She waved the apology away with a languid hand, smiling slowly, her cheeks flushed with pink.

"It's not a problem at all, Shikamaru-kun. That Sasuke! He asked you to meet him here for a mission brief, and then stays late to finish paperwork!" She pouted, sticking her lower lip out with mock annoyance. "He's probably with off with Sakura-chan!"

"Very irresponsible of him," Neji agreed, bobbing his head with more vehemence than was strictly necessary. "But, then again, what can one expect from such _children_, right, Uchiha-sama? We adults must make allowances for their shortcomings," he finished, conveniently forgetting that he was only months older than the boy in question.

"Neji-kun," she admonished gently. "Are you angry with my Sasuke-chan? I'm sure he didn't mean it," she said, looking away. Neji flushed pink.

"Of—of course not, Uchiha-san! Not at all! Young love, is after all, one of Fate's…most…"

He trailed off.

"Oh! Silly me," Mikoto said, gently rapping herself on the head with a small fist. "I've made such a mess of myself." The white drink was slowly slipping down between the valleys of her fingers, to the ridges that resided there, melting on until they rested, sticky and still sweet in the space between her fingertips.

She made a small noise of discontent.

"Darn! Need a napkin…" She turned around to look on the tray she'd brought out with her, and the three boys took the opportunity to rip, shred, tear, and otherwise dispose of their own, by any means necessary.

Mikoto, finding none left on the tray, turned to them with a small sigh.

"Do any of you boys happen to have an extra?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Nope."

Three pairs of eyes now stared at Naruto, two with thinly veiled threats, and one in question.

A muffled sort of squeak escaped him, before he swallowed past the…obstruction in his throat.

"…no," he said thickly, licking his suddenly dry lips.

Mikoto blinked, and then shrugged. Ever so slowly, she lifted her still wet fingertips to her lips, her pink tongue darting out to catch the stray drops of vanilla that lingered on her skin.

Naruto adjusted himself.

Shikamaru's eyes widened.

Neji wondered whether Mikoto would mind naming their first-born Hizashi.

Suddenly, a strangled noise of fury came from behind where Naruto was standing near the doorway.

Uchiha Sasuke, his face flushed, held out a handkerchief to his mother, his eyes promising Slow Death to his _soon-to-be-former _comrades. Beside him, Sakura stared unabashedly at the flush on Shikamaru's tanned cheeks, the tense line of Neji's jaw, and the quiet prayers coming from Naruto's pursed lips.

Mikoto smiled at her youngest son, thanking him brightly for his help, and then, after bending over to pick up the remnants of their dessert, fluttered off inside to wash the glasses.

"Sakura, go help her."

With a single questioning look at her boyfriend, Sakura did as he asked, her eyes demanding an explanation later.

When he was sure she'd left, Sasuke turned his glare on to the three remaining. After a few tense beats, wherein he contemplated castration, murder, and gouging out eyeballs, he sighed.

"Nara, wipe off the drool. Hyuuga, fix your pants. And Naruto," he said, curling his lip with distaste, "clean up your mess." He tossed another white handkerchief at the blond, who seemed unashamed.

"Next time," the Uchiha decided aloud, "we're meeting at Ichiraku."

* * *

Yes, Naruto swallowed his.

Eheh. Um. Yeah. I did say this was crack, right?


	43. run, baby, run

**title: **run, baby, run  
**pairing:** NaruKarin. Implied SasuSaku.  
**for:** Pinaface owns me. D:  
**prompt:** _don't say we're not meant to be_**  
summary: **If she let him, he'd show her that she was wrong—he'd never believed in Fate, anyways.  
**notes: **I'm pretty sure I like fanon!Karin loads more than canon!one. I tend to give her more maturity than she deserves or really, _has_ at this point, but that's OK.

**disclaimer: **not not not not mine, not mine.

* * *

He sat back against his wooden headboard, blue eyes shut, and tanned fists clenched, as he recalled the words they'd exchanged not an hour ago.

_"It can't work," _she'd said, pulling on her thigh-high boots, Regret dogging her heels. _"We're too different."_

He'd asked her what the hell sort of difference that made, and she'd laughed without humor.

_"You really don't see it, do you? Maybe you're as big a fool as he said."_

He'd bristled. Was that what this was about? Was it—?

(He was so _tired _of living through the same old script.)

Thankfully, she'd shaken her head in the negative, red strands falling to shield her eyes.

_"Not about him. That was over when I saw the way he looked at her." _Naruto was relieved to note the lack of bitterness.

_"So _what_, then,"_ he'd asked.

She'd looked at him with eyes softer than he'd ever seen.

_"It's not—we just…it wouldn't work between us. We…we weren't made for that sort of life."_

She'd walked out, her shoulders ram-rod straight, but shaking—doubting the words that hung in the space between them.

Good. It was probably cruel, but he was glad—it would have been harder convincing her otherwise, if she truly meant it.

If she let him, he'd show her that she was wrong.

He'd never believed in Fate, anyways.

* * *

Thoughts, please.


	44. for life is yours to miss

**title: **for life is yours to miss  
**pairing:** NaruKarin. Implied SasuSaku.  
**for:** Pinaface owns me. D:  
**prompt:** _untouched_**, **by the veronicas**  
summary: **"Like _hell, _am I taking dating advice from someone as socially-retarded as you."  
**notes: **I'm pretty sure I like fanon!Karin loads more than canon!one. I tend to give her more maturity than she deserves or really, _has_ at this point, but that's OK.

**disclaimer: **not not not not mine, not mine.

* * *

"You should give up on her."

Naruto looked at Sasuke, whose gaze was locked on the two sparring in front of them. Sakura had snapped on the black gloves, and the Uchiha narrowed his eyes. While they seemed to have come to an uneasy truce, Karin and Sakura were just barely civil to each other. He shifted, ready to interfere if the need arose.

He owed Karin his life, after all, and as much as Sakura resented it, she couldn't make it untrue.

"Sakura," he called out, voice carefully free from inflection.

Both kunoichi looked up at the interruption. Sakura looked at him with quiet eyes, her jaw tensed, as if she knew what was coming.

"Go easy on her."

Karin glanced at her opponent.

"Oh, _Sasuke-kun_! I knew you cared," she trilled, carefully watching for Sakura's reaction. She wasn't disappointed to see the vein pulsing on her forehead, though she was surprised to see it disappear a few moments later. Sakura took a few breaths, and nodded, but did not take her eyes off of the boy in front of her. For what seemed like the thousandth time, Karin felt the rest of their world fall away, and knew with certainty, that in this moment, for the two of them, no one else existed.

She sighed lightly at her past foolishness, but held her breath when she caught sight of the one beside her former team-leader. His blue eyes seemed to devour her with an intimacy that frightened her.

Karin didn't have much experience with regrets—Sound had taken that from her as easily as it had everything else.

She didn't know much about Naruto. Really, she'd only had stories to go by, and from what she'd heard, he was part-hero, part-monster, and—

Well, he was entirely too whole.

Uzumaki Naruto was well on his way to validation, if the gossip around the town were to be believed. The Hokage-ship—a dream he'd had since childhood. She was a barely-reformed missing-nin, with no real allegiance, no real home.

Nothing to offer him, except herself, and even that, she owed in great part to Sasuke.

He'd realize it with time, she decided, ruthlessly squashing down any lingering feelings of doubt. Their broken line of trysts would be just another one to add to her list of mistakes, and for him, yet another line to add to the row of offenses to forget when he married his pale-eyed dream.

She shook her head to clear it of its thoughts. She had a spar to get back to.

"Oi. Can we get on with this," she asked, careful to inject her voice with as much bravado as she didn't feel. She dragged her eyes away from Naruto with more difficulty than she cared to admit, and back to Sakura—who, she was surprised to see, was looking at her with something that looked frighteningly too much like understanding.

"Yeah," the pink-haired girl said, softer this time. She turned away from Sasuke, but not before she allowed their fingertips to brush in parting.

The two walked back to the middle of the empty field and began again, Karin allowing the clink of metal to clear her mind of all thought. Sakura, for her part, left the gloves on, but did not make any real attempt to use them.

From their vantage point, Sasuke looked back at Naruto who was watching the redhead with thoughtful eyes.

"Oi, dead-last. Did you hear me? She's…_damaged_," he said, somewhat awkwardly. Naruto didn't even flinch, though he did wonder why Sasuke was even bothering with the almost-warning. Perhaps this was him attempting to even _begin_ to make it up to—

_Ugh_. Naruto shook his head vigorously. Who the hell knew why Sasuke did the things he did?

"Pot, calling Kettle," he murmured in lieu of any real response, not taking his eyes away from the scene in front of him.

"You'd be better off finding someone else," Sasuke said, ignoring his insult. "Sound…"

He trailed off, and Naruto finally deigned to look at him.

"It," Sasuke said, haltingly, "changes you."

The blond regarded him, quieter than Sasuke ever remembered him being.

"Yeah," he said, finally, as though the notion had never occurred to him. Sasuke had the sinking feeling it was all sarcasm.

He was, for once in the past few years, not wrong.

Sasuke recognized the look on Naruto's face as the same one that "graced" it as he'd knocked Hyuuga Neji back with one clean punch during their first Chuunin exam.

As the same one he'd had when he'd faced Subaku no Gaara—pleading with him to make room in his life for more than that blood-soaked gourd.

As the same one Sasuke himself had seen, not two months ago, when he'd been dragged bloodied and beaten back into the town he'd sworn to forget.

"Sound changes people, huh," the blond repeated, thoughtfully, before turning to face him, now with the indomitable grin Sasuke knew him for, plastered on his face.

"Well, so do I."

He stood up and turned to leave, but paused, deciding that one last parting shot was in order.

They had a lot to make up for, after all.

"And like _hell, _am I taking dating advice from someone as socially-retarded as you."

* * *

Too many things going on with this piece, srsly.

I think I like NaruKarin now. I blame that one song from the first installment of this little "saga."

Don't let the pairing discourage you—tell me what you think. :)


	45. the little blue pill

**title: **the little blue pill  
**pairing: **SasuSaku with peripheral Fugaku & Mikoto, and some vague SakuIta  
**for: **Pinaface, for BOOTCAMP  
**prompt: **_Viagra_, paper-thin**  
summary:** AU. Dialogue-fic. Semi-crack. In which Sakura is Shameless and Female, Sasuke is Dignified and Ridiculous, and Itachi is an accidental Cupid who manages to be Devastatingly Attractive without actually being around.

**disclaimer:** Not mine. :)

* * *

"So?"

"So, _what, _exactly?"

"You know. We were talking about it not three minutes ago."

"And now we're not."

"Well, we should be."

"No, we shouldn't."

"Sasu—yes, we should."

"No, Sakura, we shouldn't. Now if you could kindly shut the hell up, we could do what we really _should_ be doing and—stop that."

"…Stop what, _Sasuke-kun_?"

"You're…breathing too deeply."

"…I don't even know what to say to that."

"You should button up your shirt some. It's not that hot outside, you know."

"Oh, I know."

"So, button up. It'd be annoying if you got sick and we had to put off doing this project."

"Sasuke-kun, it's seventy degrees outside. I don't think two buttons—or rather, my baring the skin beneath them—are going to send me to the hospital with pneumonia any time soon. Now stop putting it off, and answer my question."

"I don't want to."

"You're being a petulant child."

"_I'm_ preserving my sanity. You're just being nosy. And vaguely inappropriate."

"Nosy? _Nosy?_ I'm just trying to plan ahead!"

"…"

"What? Stop looking at me like that."

"Look, could we just do this? Kakashi said this stupid essay is worth at least forty percent of our final grade. I, unlike _some_ people, am not used to mediocrity, and sub-standard work ethics. So, could we save the mindless prattle for after we finish? Or better yet, until after we _start_?"

"You're such a grumple."

"A what?"

"A grumple."

"What the hell is—you know what? I don't care."

"See? You and your chronic indifference—classic grumple symptoms."

"That isn't a word."

"Of course it is. I just made it up."

"Sakura, we're getting dangerously off-topic—"

"—and were we ever really _on-topic_—"

"—and I really want to finish this before my brother gets home and—"

"—your brother Itachi? The hot one?"

"—he's such an—what? You think he's…attractive?"

"Well, of course. I am female, you know. And the last time I checked, I have a fairly steady pulse."

"…"

"You rely far too much on ellipses. You know that, Sasuke-kun? Ah well, in any case, if Itachi-san is going to be here soon, then we might as well get to work on this project. I'll just ask him when he gets here. Pass me that reference text, please."

"…"

"See, there you go again. Never mind, I'll get it myself. You should work on looking through those scientific journals. This book I borrowed is a nice start, but it's probably outdated. Still, we could do with some—Sasuke-kun? Are you all right?"

"He drools."

"…what?"

"He drools. Itachi, I mean. And he takes forever in the shower. He says it's because his hair's really thick—"

"Well, it is very nice hair, Sasuke-kun. It's kind of obvious that he takes a lot of pride in it. And I mean, he's got everything, doesn't he? President of the Student Council, captain of the kendo-club, and tutor for the remedial courses—I guess a little vanity isn't too much of a trade-off for someone with such skill."

"…whatever. He's an ass."

"If you say so, Sasuke-kun. How's the reading going? Have you found anything we can—"

"They don't."

"Pardon?"

"…My parents. They don't need any…help with their biological functions. At least, not from what I've seen in the medicine cabinet."

"Well, perhaps they've used them all. And it's all right—I told you, you don't have to tell me."

"They haven't. I would…know. If they had used them, I mean."

"Know? Sasuke-kun, you perv—"

"The walls, Sakura. The walls in this house are paper-thin, remember? And there aren't any empty boxes in the garbage."

"Ah! That's right. Well, I suppose it shouldn't come as such a surprise that they're not using anything. Women tend to reach their sexual peak at around forty, anyway, and your father is still very handsome. I can see where Itachi got his good genes."

"…"

"Sasuke-kun, please don't bend the spine of that text. I'd have to pay for it if you ripped it. Oh! Is that the door turning? Maybe Itachi-san's here."

"Why are you so excited? I've already answered your question. There's no need to see him."

"Nonsense, Sasuke-kun. I have to at least say hell—_mmph_!"

"…"

"…"

"…what…was…_that_ for?"

"Sakura."

"Yes, Sasuke-kun?"

"Shut up."

* * *

Back to my comfort zone—not that I ever actually left it.

Hm.

Review please.


	46. just listen

**title: **just listen  
**pairing: **SasuSaku, but not really focused on the pairing.  
**for: **Celesta D.  
**prompt: **_she prays_**  
summary:** Hints of SasuSaku. InoSaku!friendship. Ino and Sasuke have a long overdue conversation. "Do you have any idea what you did to her?"

**notes: **Sorry, Celesta D.—your proposed scenario didn't quite come as easily with this drabble, but I hope you enjoy my humble effort nonetheless.

**disclaimer: **Not mine. :)

* * *

"What do you think you're doing here?"

He paused, just five steps away from his destination, but did not turn around. Ino smiled grimly as she imagined the thoughts going through her head. Her voice would be only vaguely familiar to him, and she imagined that he would have to think for a few moments before he remembered the name that came with it. He stopped.

"Yamanaka."

Her footsteps sounded louder against the hospital's linoleum floors, and she heard a low groan of annoyance, a resentful breath that made its way out of his mouth.

Ino decided that she didn't much care.

"I'll repeat my question, Uchiha—what the hell do you think you're doing here?"

He stiffened as she finally stopped to stand in front of him, her arms folded across her chest, her hands clenched into two tight fists.

The changes in him didn't much surprise her, though, Ino admitted, had it been any other time, she probably would have taken note of the way he'd only grown more handsome with the passing of years—would have admired him in the same cold, clinical way she appraised a fine work of art, or a particularly ornate piece of jewelry.

But it wasn't any other time.

"That's none of your business."

For a moment, there were no words. Ino could only stare unblinkingly at the cause of so many tears.

"None of my…none of my _business_," she began lowly, breathing deeply with the effort it took to contain her rage. She could feel her cheeks flushing, could feel the warmth of anger that tingled down to her fingertips. Her cheeks were mottled red, she knew, and her pale complexion ruined by rage, but for once, she could not find enough of herself to care.

"That's right. It's none of your concern what I'm doing here. So, get out of my way before I remove you myself." And then, his face darkened, his eyes turning impossibly colder.

"But then," he said, sneering, "from what I remember, you'd probably enjoy that."

"You're disgusting," she spat out.

"And you still haven't—"

"It is my business."

He looked startled, and Ino reveled in her small victory.

"What?"

"I said, Uchiha Sasuke, it _is_ my business. _She_ is my business."

"What are you—"

"Shut up," she said, "and _listen_."

"…"

After she was sure that no more interruptions would be forthcoming, she began.

"She came to me, night after night, after you and that blond idiot _left_—left _her_—abandoned her like she was so much trash. As though, she hadn't even deserved the dignity of a proper goodbye. And don't look at me like that—she told me about your half-assed attempt near that bench. Do you know that she can't even go that way anymore? But that isn't the point. The point is, you left. You told her without words—surprise surprise—that she wasn't enough. Do you have any idea what that did to her? Do you have any idea how long it took for her to get over what she saw as her biggest, most magnificent failure? How long it took her to get over _you_? How many times I had to wake her up from the throes of some nightmare world where she'd been left alone, only to wake up to a world where she really was? My God! And she _prayed_ for you. _Prayed_ to some god that probably doesn't even exist that you would be kept safe. That you wouldn't ever be _completely_ out of her reach."

Sasuke's face remained unchanged throughout her tirade, and there was nothing that indicated he was even listening. His features remained placid, and his eyes dangerously empty. Ino wanted to slap him, to shake him, to make him _care_.

But, she wasn't done yet, and if nothing else, his white knuckles spoke volumes.

"And then, just when she's on the brink of getting over you, she stumbles across your half-dead body in the middle of Mist. _Half-dead_. You didn't even have the decency to emerge unscathed," she said harshly, ignoring the way he bristled at her implied barb.

Sasuke shook himself out of his stupor, and glared not at her, but past her, at the closed door behind her.

"I just wanted to see if she was all right," he said dully, grudgingly.

Ino stared.

And then, she cursed the Infernal Stupidity that was apparently part of being a Male Genius. Honestly. This idiot made her thankful for Shikamaru's own brand of exasperating ignorance.

"Are you—_seriously_? Are you that—? Oh my God. I don't know how she—"

Sasuke ignored her sputtering, only looking at her with bored eyes.

"Done, yet," he asked, sounding as though he couldn't care less.

"How could she _possibly _be _all right_? What about this impossibly fucked-up situation could possibly be anywhere _near all right_? Huh? Please, feel free to let me know. She almost _died _healing you—and I mean that literally and figuratively. She was down to the last dregs of chakra when she got here, with you unconscious and slung over her back. And now, she's exhausted. And she hasn't said anything, but I know that you're all she thinks about."

Suddenly, Ino stepped back, allowing her arms to fall to her sides. Suddenly, she seemed as tired as the girl she protected so fiercely.

"You _left _her, Sasuke. You left her. And then she cried. Enough to fill rivers. And then she stopped, because she decided that she needed to be stronger to _bring you back_. So she trained and she trained, and she fell a lot, and cried some more, and she _almost _got over you. She was _almost_ happy. And then you reappeared—just as she was about finished sewing herself whole again. And because she's so impossibly stubborn," Ino said, almost tearfully, "she almost killed herself saving you."

She turned away so she faced the wall, and wiped a few wayward tears away with a quick hand. Sasuke pretended not to see her.

He figured it was the least he could do.

"You left, Sasuke, in case I wasn't clear enough the last three times I said it. You left and then you came back. So no, Sasuke. She's not all right. _This_—none of this is all right."

Finally finished, she drew in a deep breath, and sighed, leaning against the door with her head back, and her eyes shut. Not a few feet away, Sasuke shifted.

"So, what do I do," he asked, reluctantly, and Ino sighed.

"Give her a bit of time to recover. You can't see it right now, because you're in it, but that's all she needs."

Sasuke studied her, and Ino had the uncomfortable feeling that he was seeing more than she wanted him to.

"You don't call me Sasuke-kun, anymore," he said, contemplatively.

Ino almost laughed.

"Yes, well. I'm not in love with you, anymore."

She pushed herself off, and turned to walk away, leaving him standing alone with his thoughts. As soon as he was sure the blonde had gone, he turned and leaned his forehead on the door of the pink-haired girl who had never quite grown up—had never quite _given_ up—on him.

"Sakura…"

* * *

Not continuing this particular ficlet unless inspiration suddenly strikes.

And also, the record, I am not a fan of fanfictions that paint Ino as a whore to pave the way for SasuSaku. They deserve better than that, and so does she.

Let me know what you think, and dear _Lord. _Know that crack is forthcoming.

Blame Pina and Annie.


	47. notches

**title:** notches  
**pairing: **SasuSaku-ish. If anything.**  
prompt: **urban landscape**  
summary: **AU. She'd never wished so hard for polarity.  
**for:** Who else but my nine-year old?

**notes: **This is all different sorts of fail. It's an Ouch. Introspective, vaguely plot-less. Just an exercise in dynamics, or at least, in emotions.

**disclaimer: **not not not not mine, not mine.

* * *

The next time she saw him, they were covered in snow.

It wasn't white, wasn't clean—wasn't pristine by any means. Rather, it was the slush that comes with the after, the gray medium between ice and water, and it seemed fitting. Sakura thought briefly that she didn't quite know where they stood either, though she couldn't help regretting that it wasn't on opposite ends of some abstract spectrum.

She'd never wished so hard for polarity.

Sasuke looked good, she noted absently. But then, when did he not? He was dressed in pure black but for a grey scarf wrapped haphazardly around his neck, as though it had been a last-minute addition to his usual monochrome. His face was still composed of the same perfect arrangement of bored features; his eyes still dark, his lips still thin, his nose still straight and narrow. He looked somehow out-of-place on that grungy street corner, colored copper by the remnants of building clay.

She hadn't spoken yet, didn't know the words to say—couldn't force a breath past her suddenly dry lips. Instead, Sakura wondered what he saw when he looked at her. Did he see her as he knew her—awkward and gangly and unbearably open, clearly in love with his words, his hands, his dark eyes?

Or did he see what she had become—what she _hoped _she had become? Someone calm and cool, aloof and distant—someone utterly determined to be (un)happy?

She'd recreated this moment in her mind countless times, but the reality of it was at once palpable and intangible. There was no time for a subtle put-down, too few moments to show him how she no longer needed him.

There were four-and-a-half steps between them, and the distance was closing fast. It seemed fitting, somehow, that they were walking along a concrete hillside in opposite directions

For the moment that their eyes met, it seemed almost like a dream. She felt him, rather than saw him—she refused to allow her gaze to linger—and noted the way the air around him still smelled of sandalwood. Her eyes strayed without her permission, and she cursed when she felt her chest tightening at the way his own gaze seemed reluctant to leave her form, before she felt the missing weight of it so keenly that she almost sighed aloud.

It was far past mattering, and she should have been far past caring.

There were no words exchanged, and she walked uphill, each step heavier as they grew further apart.

* * *

I'm back.


	48. miss

**title:** miss**  
pairing: **SasuSaku-ish. If anything.**  
prompt: **"Not tonight—I have a headache."**  
summary: **AU. If she were stronger, Sakura would have allowed herself to think his name.

**notes: **Continuation of the last drabble.

**disclaimer: **not not not not mine, not mine.

* * *

Her breaths formed like clouds as they slipped out between her lips, and she frowned at their shape before cupping her hand around them and holding their heat in her hand. The words in front of her seemed to blur in much the same fashion—seemed to grow moist and indistinct even despite the tangible rigidity of the raised blocks of text.

It was 11:30 in the evening, and she was alone, accompanied only by the low hum of her computer monitor and the steady thrum of her portable heater. The boiler had handed in its letter of resignation earlier in the day, and the repairmen had yet to make their appearance. Sakura contented herself with the notion of her breaths providing more company—a welcome thing, she supposed, when considering the months she spent with only herself to talk to.

Sighing, she rolled back the overlong sleeves of her teal blouse, smiling at the way its neckline seemed determined to expose her left shoulder. The white strap of her tank-top seemed to disappear into her skin, and she brushed errant strands of her hair away from her face, before stretching her arms high over her head. It was long past time for a break anyway, she decided, as she pushed her seat away from her study desk. Perhaps a cup of hot chocolate would drive away the nagging melancholy.

The day's earlier "almost-encounter" had yet to leave her mind. His dark eyes seemed to watch her from every shadow—a notion which left her feeling annoyingly protected, rather than simply _annoyed_. When she'd entered her empty apartment earlier, she'd thought she'd heard the water running, had gone so far as to look for the steam that had once accompanied his leisurely showers—the one concession he'd made to luxury. Despite herself, she remembered what he was to her.

If she were stronger, Sakura would have allowed herself to think his name.

Sighing at the thought, she made her way into the kitchen, suddenly intent on scrapping the idea of hot chocolate altogether, and substituting a glass of the fine vintage chardonnay that Ino had given her for her last birthday. Her eyes caught on a swath of steel monochrome.

Evidently, she'd left her cell phone here in her haste to begin the night's round of reading.

As was her habit, she checked through the missed texts, and email messages, deleting three, and responding to five. Ino rescheduled their lunch meeting, and Shizune had cancelled the next day's shadow program—evidently, Tsunade-sensei was hungover.

_Again_.

Naruto was flailing over the newest flavor of _Yum Yum!_ ramen, and Neji was railing over the incompetence of their earlier substitute. All-in-all, nothing out of the ordinary.

She was about to select the icon that would allow her phone its own reprieve when an insistent, blinking red light chose that moment to present itself. There was a red asterisk on the Call Log icon—a missed call.

Frowning, she selected it, wondering who it could have been. Her regulars had already sent her texts, and Tenten's phone was still MIA.

There was a single entry—a name accompanied by a small yellow telephone with a small yellow "x" running through it.

_Sasuke_ (W) (X/XX)

She felt her mouth fall open in a soundless gasp, despite her attempts to stay in control. Her chest seemed to tighten at his name, and a small part of her seemed indignant at the way his minute—his _temporary—_presence had permeated her so thoroughly. His eyes, his sounds, his _name_, all invaded the sanctuary of her home away from him.

_What to do, what to do_, she wondered. Would she call him again? Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe he didn't mean it—didn't mean her.

It was all so stupid. He was unraveling her all over again—laying her bare without even being around. It was so…so…

So very much like him.

She sighed, resigned to her weakness.

"Not tonight—I have a headache," she said aloud to no one in particular.

_Tomorrow,_ she decided. Tomorrow she would call.

* * *

Uh. Yeah. :D


	49. crush

**title:** crush**  
pairing: **SasuSaku-ish. If anything.**  
summary: **AU. She left him staring after her, wondering at the hole she'd left in the middle of the crowd.

**notes: **Continuation of the last drabble.

**disclaimer: **not not not not mine, not mine. Ahem, so not mine.

* * *

The crush was in full form tonight—he'd brushed by twenty-some bodies, and she'd tripped over seven size-six shoes—and the energy seemed to encourage artful conversation, but their history was thicker than ink, so it was all very expected, the silence that settled between them even in the midst of the crowd.

"So," she began, shouting to be heard over the dull roar, "I thought you wanted to talk to me?" Her green eyes were only dampened by the room's shadows—still bright, the color of leaves under sunlight—and she swirled her drink. "I mean, you did call, you know. A few days ago, I think."

He looked at her, and looked away again when he saw her eyes focused on his face, as though ashamed to have been caught staring. The floor was safer, even if it did seem to be moving, he decided.

"I did call," he said, not bothering to look up. Courtesy was over-rated, after all. "But, I think I made a mistake. I don't really have anything to say to you. And anyway, you called back."

She was silent for a moment, her pink hair shadowing those green, green eyes. "But, here we are," she said, softer that time, though he would have denied it had anyone thought to ask him whether he'd strained to hear. "There must have been a reason. I haven't—I mean, since that day…it's…just, it's been a while," she said, finally. "I didn't expect to see you outside in the aftermath of that storm, you know."

"Hn."

She smiled, a gesture which unnerved him with its familiarity. She'd always had one ready for him. This whole thing had been a bad idea. He'd made a mistake initiating this…whatever it was, and now, here she was, in front of him. _What to say to her_, he wondered. He'd never known the answer to that.

"I see you haven't quite grown out of that grunting. What's that even—?"

"Why did you agree to meet me tonight, Sakura?"

She blinked, and he almost smirked in satisfaction. Good. Let _her _be the uncomfortable one.

"I…I don't—"

_What did you expect from me?_

"The phone call was a mistake, Sakura—a mistake."

"An error in judgment," she offered mechanically. Her knuckles were white against the clear glass in her hand, the green liqueur all but gone.

"Exactly."

"And I would believe you, if you hadn't asked me to meet you here, Sasuke. So, I'll ask you again—is there anything you want to say to me?"

Around them, there were bodies in motion, and voices raised in what sounded like song. In the corner behind her, he saw two people clinging to each other, intertwined in the darkness of the club, their hands roving, their mouths moving, and just beyond that, the night air outside seemed to beckon—seemed to call for a reconciliation.

Before tonight, it had been eight months.

He looked at her again, a single entity in a room with a crowd. He'd called her for a reason, he knew—not that she _ever_ would—but seeing her in front of him, her pale skin like moonlight, and her lips softened with wine, he couldn't find himself remembering.

"Sasuke? Are you—is everything all right?"

His eyes snapped into focus, and slid away from her mouth, up to her eyes. She was looking at him with concern.

"I was…I meant to call someone else that night," he said, the words sounding as though they were coming from miles away. "She has—I…I just called you by mistake. I meant to call somebody else."

"…Oh," she said, recoiling slightly, even as her eyes grew shuttered, and the smile grew strained. The line of her back seemed to fall into rigidity, and he saw the beginnings of a red flush on her cheeks—a precursor to tears, if he remembered correctly. Dimly, he found himself hoping it was just the alcohol.

He'd never been very fond of her tears.

A sudden clatter seemed to pierce through the noise around him, and he looked up to see Sakura pushing her chair back, and bending gracefully in her seat to pick up her bag beneath the table. A few moments later, she was standing up, car keys in hand, and looking at anything but him. That smile was still there, rigid, and unwavering, as though it was being evaluated.

"I have an early day tomorrow, so I'm just going to…I'm going ahead. Goodbye, Sasuke."

He stood up so they stood eye-to-eye, and he walked toward her until they was only an arm's length between them.

"_Good night_, Sakura," he replied, almost forcefully.

"Goodbye, Sasuke."

She left him staring after her, wondering at the hole she'd left in the middle of the crowd.

* * *

Disjointed. Confusing.

Maybe one last part to this series.

As for _cherry apple wine,_ do not give up! I am on break, so I have time to write. :)


	50. honesty

**title:** honesty**  
pairing: **SasuSaku  
**summary: **AU. "I know," he repeated, "I know that I don't want _goodbye_ to be the last thing you say to me."  
**prompt:** uptown girl  
**for: **mint poppies

**notes: **continuation; last part of latest drabble series.

**disclaimer: **not not not not mine, not mine. Ahem, so not mine.

* * *

He found her a few days later in a coffeehouse on the other side of the city divide, sipping slowly from a chipped glass that had might have been cream once upon a time, but had darkened with the passage of time. She wore a thin white trench, with large black sunglasses, dark enough to shield her eyes from view, even as the rain continued to _pitter patter _its way down roof shingles and tree leaves outside. The blue cashmere scarf she had carelessly wrapped around the thin white column of her neck —a gift from a Christmas recently past —seemed somehow appropriate, even with their early spring. Predictably, she was reading. It was Dinesan this time, he noted, and wondered whether she'd bothered to keep _his _old texts—whether she'd exiled them, along with his memory.

She was out of place here, in this dingy café, like a hothouse flower in the middle of a drought.

As he approached, the walls seemed to close in around her, effectively barring his progress, and Sasuke found himself wondering whether she had somehow charmed them to keep him at bay. Sakura was like that, he thought to himself, so quick to slip into and under one's exterior, so quick to find the heart of things, and bend them to her will so gently that they could not resent her for it. Everything after seemed to come easier, after that. He was resigned in a complacent sort of way, as though he had finally come to terms with the way he reacted around her. He sidestepped a wayward wooden chair, and slid into the seat across from her with little more than a silent glance of acknowledgment. She glanced up once, twice, but did not speak, and only continued reading, twining winter tales around her fingertips, before finally turning the page.

A stranger would have thought them strangers.

Without preamble, he began.

"You surprised me, a few nights ago. I didn't think you would come." It was a humbling admission, but it was truth, and he hoped she understood.

She said nothing, but her fingers stilled where they were poised to turn the page. That was enough, for now. He resisted the sudden, uncharacteristic urge to fiddle with the napkin she'd left abandoned by the wayside, and when it did not look like she would reply, went on.

"I said I had nothing to say to you, and that night, I didn't. You surprised me, Sakura. I haven't seen you—_we _haven't seen each other in months. I had a right to be surprised."

"Yes," she said, her tone free from any inflection. "So you've said." Her glasses never left the book in front of her, and they prevented him from knowing whether she was looking at anything but words.

"I don't know what I'm doing here," he continued. "I don't know why I needed to find you. I stayed after you left."

"So, I imagined," she said, her voice soft, but detached. "But now, I know. Thank you for telling me."

He stood up, and walked the short distance around the small square table they shared, looked down at the crown of her bowed head, until the heat of his gaze forced her to turn her face up, to look at him. Without invitation, he grabbed the sunglasses off the bridge of her nose, and placed them on the table, beside her chipped cream-once-upon-a-time-white mug.

Her eyes were rimmed with red, and in them were the remnants of an old despair.

"I don't know why I called you then," he said again. "But I know that—" Here he broke off to swallow a portion of pride. Here, _this_—this was honesty.

"I know," he said now, as she looked up with her red-rimmed eyes, and her cashmere scarf, strung around her neck like the most tenuous of bonds, "I know," he repeated, "I know that I don't want _goodbye_ to be the last thing you say to me."

Sasuke turned around at that, after saying his piece, content to walk away with the knowledge that at least, now she knew.

He was unprepared, for the sudden soft weight, pressed against his back—for the feel of her nose pressing into the curve between his neck and shoulder, and the thin arms that circled his waist with aching familiarity.

"And I," she said softly, her voice muffled by the scent of him, "I don't ever want to say it again, Sasuke. Not to you. So don't please don't make me. Just stay, this time."

"Stay," he said, echoing her words, even as his hands covered hers.

"_Stay_."

* * *

We know what happens after, yeah?

Last part of that series! I finaly finished one! :D


	51. naruto makes a porno

**title: **naruto makes a porno  
**summary: **In which Naruto rewrites history, and Sakura despairs. "IT IS NOT OK, NARUTO. IT IS ABSOLUTELY NOT OK. IT IS WRONG AND A LITTLE PERVERSE, AND _YOU _ARE WRONG AND A LITTLE PERVERSE AND IT IS NOT OK."  
**pairing: **SasuSaku, Team 7 sparkly love!

**for:** Sparkles, on her birthday. Words aren't enough, but I try anyway.

**notes:** Crack. I don't even know. I'm going to go ahead and say that in this fic-universe, Sasuke came back before Team Hebi was formed. The Akatsuki attack on Konoha _did _happen.

Again, this is horrible crack.

**disclaimer:** Naruto and all elements associated with that work of fiction do not belong to me.

* * *

The destruction of Konoha had made the axiom ring truer than bells—desperate times, did indeed, call for desperate measures. It seemed to the blond, blue-eyed interim Rokudaime Hokage that mission pay was not quite making up the deficit, and there were years to go before the crop cycles would stabilize again. Konoha did not have that sort of time, and the only one with enough money to fund repairs—and enough labor to supplement the straggled number of Konoha citizens willing and able to rebuild—were the _damiyo_.

"And those bastards aren't likely to lend us anything without charging us interest up to our eyeballs." He snorted, and leaned back into the soft cushion of his comfortable chair. "No," he said, to no one in particular, for indeed, he was alone. "We have to think of another way to do this."

Unbidden, his mind seemed to recall an escort mission he'd taken a few years back with a visiting dignitary. The man had hired protection to accompany him to a staged drama—had in fact paid an obscene amount of money for Naruto to do nothing more than snore through the first curtain call.

His musings were interrupted by a low rumble coming from his stomach. He would have sold his soul for a bowl of Ichiraku miso ramen, and a leg for a decent pair of chopsticks. At the thought of his favorite restaurant—_tragically_ dismantled during the last offensive—Naruto's heart seemed to throb in his chest. He _had _to find a way to make more money to begin the rebuilding. As it stood now, there wouldn't be any ramen for at least ten _years_—even longer if Sakura-chan had _her _way, what with prioritizing the rebuilding of the hospital over Ichiraku Ramen. What was she thinking, anyway?

He _never _should have made her his chief of council.

_Ah well_, Naruto thought, going back to the matter at hand. It was too bad, he mused dejectedly, that Konoha didn't have any drama to put on stage. The theater was one of the few places left untouched by the fighting. No epic love story to—

It was then that Naruto had a (profoundly debilitating) Stroke of Genius.

"Wait," he said, sitting up straighter in his seat, and allowing his eyes to regain some of their shine. "Wait just a minute."

That was _it_.

Naruto braced both hands on _his _desk, and stood up, mouth already poised to make the call.

"Konohamaru!"

At the sound of his name, a young boy burst through the doors of the Hokage office, looking harried, and not just a little disgruntled.

"Yes, boss? Can you make it quick? We're a little swamped—"

Naruto waved the complaint away, caught up in the Unmistakable Majesty of his Idea.

"Get me Sakura-chan. And that stupid Sasuke-teme."

-

"No."

Naruto scowled threateningly.

"You didn't even let me finish, you bastard!"

Sasuke looked at him with the casual sort of disinterest he'd perfected six years ago at the age of thirteen, and tipped his head back so that it was leaning against the wall.

"I don't need to, dead last," he said almost serenely. "I already know it's going to be stupid."

Sakura stepped between the two, holding her breath so she wouldn't fall under the weight of testosterone.

"Please," she said tiredly. "The morning hasn't even started yet, and I have patients to check on. In case you both forgot, we're recovering from a serious attack on our forces. People are grievously _injured_. Houses have been utterly _decimated_. Our village is on the brink of collapse. Could you two save your phallic battle for a more appropriate time? I promise, I'll even get Sai in here to measure when you guys whip them out, or whatever, if you two are so inclined, but I cannot and _will_ not deal with this now."

Tirade thus concluded, she heaved a deep cleansing breath—a breath, Naruto was quick to notice, which drew Sasuke's stupid swirly eyes dangerously close to the vicinity of Sakura's heaving chest.

Naruto grinned widely—_dangerously_.

"What was it you wanted, Naruto," Sakura continued, as her green eyes briefly focused on his face, before fluttering shut in deference to her sudden yawn.

"I want," Naruto said, valiantly ignoring the way Sasuke was smirking at him with knowing superiority, "I want to make a movie."

Sakura huffed, and left the room, intent on getting back to the work Naruto had interrupted. Sasuke chose to take his time, tossing one last _"dobe-sama" _as he made his way out.

"Fine," Naruto yelled at their retreating backs. "I'll just rewrite it myself, then! Who needs your stupid romance?"

"Who needs them anyway," he said, in an almost-furtive whisper, as he locked the door behind them.

"It'll be an even _better_ show with a few tweaks here and there…"

-

It was three days later that Sakura and Sasuke were summoned back to the makeshift Hokage tower, only to find Naruto surrounded by remnants of their past.

"Naruto," Sakura began conversationally, "why do you have twelve-year old versions of Sasuke-kun and I in your office? Do you not have any real work to do? Are you suffering," she continued sweetly, _dangerously_. "Are you suffering from too much free time? _SHOULD I FIND YOU SOMETHING TO DO? LIKE, I DON'T KNOW, MAYBE HELPING OUT WITH REBUILDING EFFORTS?_"

Sasuke said nothing, content to watch as Naruto was reamed mercilessly by someone who barely reached past his elbow.

"But, but—that's what I'm doing, Sakura-chan! I _am_ helping—if I can get us some funding, things will move a lot quicker! Since we aren't getting enough from missions, and we're totally undermanned anyway, we need to find some other sources! The only people with money to spend right now are the nobles, and this one mission, one of them made me—"

"All right, all right! Forget the explanation! Just go!"

Sasuke still looked unconvinced, but Naruto took Sakura's hesitant approval to demonstrate his plan as a positive sign, and turned eagerly to his waiting clones.

"OK, Sakura-chan," Naruto said encouragingly. "Now, turn to baby Sasuke-teme, and say your line!"

The clone nodded vigorously, before it turned its now green eyes onto "Sasuke".

_"Sasuke-kun! Please don't leave us! I would give anything to keep you here! ANYTHING! Even my…" _Here, she blushed, and turned away.

Naruto nodded in approval of the acting, paying no mind to the dark looks the original was throwing at him at the sight of her clone's portrayal.

The Sasuke-clone looked to Naruto, and at the nod, turned back to Sakura-clone to deliver his reply.

_"Either finish your sentence, or let me leave Sakura. I'm wasting time here with you."_

_"Sasuke-kun," _squeaked the twelve-year old Sakura-clone, blushing as Naruto had directed she do, earlier. _"I would give anything to keep you here!"_

The Sasuke-clone scoffed in a startlingly accurate imitation of its real counterpart.

_"What do you have that I could possibly want? You have nothing in particular to offer me. Unless…"_

The clone Sakura raised her eyes to her male counterpart, and lowered her left hand to fiddle with the hem of her shirtdress, leaving the right hand free to lower the silver zipper near the collar, baring slivers of pale skin with an almost aching slowness.

In the corner, the real Sasuke narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, wondering whether Naruto was really going to go where he thought he was going to go with this.

_"Sakura…"_

_"Yes, Sasuke-kun," _clone-Sakura said bashfully, her cheeks flush with color. _"I would give you my _anything. _Even my _virgin_—"_

"_All right, then,_" the real Sakura interrupted now, drawing all eyes to her blushing cheeks. Sasuke, who'd been watching the drama with suddenly speculative eyes, seemed unsurprised by her outburst.

Naruto pouted.

"What's wrong, Sakura-chan? You're messing up our mojo! The other Sakura-chan and the other Sasuke-teme were getting all _into _it! Look, he even has a tiny—and I _do_ mean _tiny_—tent in his pants because of his tiny clone pe—"

"Enough! What's wrong? _What's wrong_," Sakura repeated hysterically, almost visibly frothing at the mouth. "HELLO?"

"Hello," Naruto replied uncertainly, unnerved by Sakura's apparent instability. Why was she so upset, he wondered. _He _thought it was going pretty fabulously, actually. The whole concept brought tears to his eyes.

When Sakura saw that he was serious, she bowed her head in defeat.

"Do I really need to explain it, Naruto?"

"Um…yes," he ventured.

"She's right, dobe," Sasuke interrupted. "This is wrong, and you know perfectly well why."

"Shut up, bastard! What's wrong with it," Naruto cried indignantly. They were limiting his creativity with their close-mindedness!

Sakura replied, unwilling to let Naruto ignore her in favor of once again sparring with Sasuke.

"For starters, it's perverse, you moron! There are probably going to be children at whatever it is you decide to put on, and you're showing twelve year-olds that _prostitution is OK_. It is _not _OK, Naruto. It is _very, very, _far from OK."

"But, it is _not_ prostitution, Sakura-chan!" Naruto pouted irritably, and folded his arms across his chest. "Don't you see? Baby Sakura-chan is going to screw baby Sasuke-teme because she wants to keep him safe at home! She cares about him, and his feelings, and she doesn't want him hurting himself with the nasty snake-man. It's not perverse—it's _true love_."

"_Naruto_!"

The boy turned at his name, barely managing to duck when Sakura's fist flew the direction of his head, determined to leave him another goose egg.

Sasuke coughed to cover up an inelegant snort, though if one looked closely, there was a definite flush on his normally pale cheeks.

"Idiot."

Naruto glared at him in the same one a mother might at the sound of an insult to her child.

"All right, bastard, your turn. What do YOU think is wrong with my masterpiece?"

For a long while Sasuke didn't say anything, seemingly content just to watch the interplay between Sakura's righteous vengeance, and Naruto's obvious mental deficiencies.

Seeing that he wasn't about to speak, Sakura chose to answer in his stead.

"Well, the worst part is so obvious that it's barely even worth repeating," she went on, still seething, though her voice was softer now.

At this, Sasuke nodded slightly, acknowledging her point.

"She's right, dead-last."

Naruto's face scrunched in what seemed to be a passable attempt at contemplation.

"Oh yeah? What's wrong with it," Naruto asked, honestly confused. He thought he did a pretty good job of filling in the empty spaces. He'd gotten most of the stuff right—the play would take place at night, and there would be a full-moon. Sasuke-teme would be broody, and Sakura-chan would be…_desperate_.

It was all _perfect_. _Clearly, _he thought to himself, _Sakura-chan just doesn't want to admit this was what really happened._ Naruto came back to himself when Sakura's voice penetrated through the fog of his thoughts.

"Naruto! Seriously? We were _twelve!_ I did _not_ offer my _vir_—I did _not _proposition Sasuke-kun back then!"

"But I thought you said that you _loved_—"

"I _did_," Sakura said quickly, clearly uncomfortable with the subject now. A covert glance at Sasuke's implacable features did nothing to reassure her. "But _not with my body!_"

"…oh," Naruto said simply. "So just with words? But that's _boring!_"

Sakura said nothing, could _do _nothing but stare.

And stare.

And stare.

"I have to go now," she said simply, before rushing out of the room, heated flush still intact.

Naruto blinked, and turned his gaze over to Sasuke.

"Well, bastard? You haven't said much. Any objections? If they're like Sakura-chan's, then save your breath! I'm not changing my baby for things as silly as Truth, or Actual Events."

Sasuke stared at him, and then at the two clones, who'd gotten themselves into interestingly tangled positions while their counterparts had been talking. Or well, while _Sakura _had been talking, and _he _had been brooding.

He turned back to Naruto, a gleam of speculation still markedly present in his eyes.

"Just one," he said simply, as he turned to leave. _Where was it, Sakura said she was going…_

"That night? My shirt was blue, not black."

* * *

8D


	52. vici

**title: **vici**  
summary: **They were lying in the aftermath of their shared destruction.

**pairing: **SasuSaku - I ought to branch out. Maybe SakuSasu?

**for:** My incorrigible little rugrat. This wasn't exactly what you were expecting I know, but I couldn't bear to make this unhappy.

**notes:** Implied smut. Also, I am starting on the requests I currently have on my LJ. Please remember that as of now, new ones are still not being accepted. My apologies, but I have quite a lot on my plate. :(

Second, this particular piece takes place, I hope, sometime after rebuilding. Sasuke has returned, and it was sort of peaceable. That is really all that is necessary to know.

Last, but certainly not least, thank you all for your continued support! I really appreciate the kind, and even the not-so-kind, words. :)

**disclaimer:** Naruto and all elements associated with that work of fiction do not belong to me.

* * *

They were lying in the aftermath of their shared destruction.

The room was a battlefield—clothes were strewn haphazardly over the back of one chair, on the shade of one lamp, on the planes of the floor. The bed sheets were rumpled, and half-unraveled, and the blood stain, centered on a field of white. Even the pillows hadn't been spared—there were two depressions, hollows carved in by hands and heads and aching sighs.

Sakura rather thought that her body was one in surrender—there were teeth marks across her shoulders, bruises around her thighs, her waist, her breasts. There were scratches on her back, and rug burns on her knees from when he'd taken her from behind. He'd soothed the marks with his tongue soon after, but the burn remained, pink and insistent, flush with indignation.

Sasuke, she thought, hadn't escaped unscathed either. He'd misjudged his initial angle of attack, and had a bruise on his forehead for the trouble, and the bags beneath his eyes spoke for a restlessness born of desperation. Her nails had left gouges in his shoulders, and red lines on his back, and her heels had, at one point, dug in so completely into the small of his back that it still throbbed. She'd marked her territory, had mapped out his body with nips that had long faded into what looked like battle scars.

Her taking, she thought, had not been an easy one.

It was, she thought as she watched him watch her, more violent than anything else, but that was what he knew. It would never be softness, and they would never be whole—which was fine.

Sakura had long ago lost the desire for assimilation.

She rolled over to face him, tracing the lines of his face with quiet admiration. His long sojourn had only left him more defined—his features were sharper and more aristocratic. For Sasuke, everything seemed to exist on a permanently positive slope, and Sakura had given up trying to hate him for it.

He hadn't said anything yet, and she hadn't offered any words. A part of her didn't want to know what this meant to him, and certainly not what it didn't. She knew she was the only one he'd ever touched this way—even if he hadn't said it in words, his hesitant touches, and initial awkward fumbling had made it clear enough. Along the way, she'd stopped wondering about the significance of _him _choosing _her_. The thought sounded strange in her head—hopelessly convoluted and backwards, despite. Hadn't it always been the other way around? Why was he suddenly reaching for her, and why was she avoiding his touch?

She couldn't ask him what this meant. What did it mean, to him, this war they'd enacted with lips and teeth and gasps and—

"Where are you going?"

His words sounded sharp in the darkness of the room, and Sakura started. She didn't remember getting up from her position next to him, but here she was, bent at the waist at the foot of his bed, and already half-dressed. It occurred to her then, that she was—

"I think I'm leaving, Sasuke-kun." His name was a habit she couldn't break, and she wondered, even as her shaking fingers slipped the last button into its hole, whether _this_ would turn into one too.

A part of her hoped so, and did it without shame. The rest of her ached, even as the words left her mouth without hesitation.

"I'm lying next to you, and I just—I just wonder whether you'll be here, when I wake up tomorrow morning. I can't just—" Sakura felt fractured, as though only a bit of her was speaking for the whole, as though the rest of her was just watching from behind the screen of some false body. She didn't want to leave, but she did—she wondered if this was Reason talking, and whether she should listen.

"Sakura, I—"

"I thought I could do this with you, but I don't think I—"

The hand that pulled her back was unexpected, but she could have stopped it. Sakura supposed that the part of her that wanted to had finally receded.

"So don't think," he said, before he covered her mouth with his.

* * *

I don't think, I just write. Expect an update for _cherry apple wine _soon. I'm in the process of editing.


	53. how sasuke got his groove back

**title: **how sasuke got his groove back  
**pairing: **SasuSaku  
**summary: **Or, Rituals of the Hopelessly Awkward.  
**notes: **For the record, this is not my fault. Blame _Pearl Harbor_. Also, it's crack. I assume that canon ends with happy rainbows, and sparkles and stuff. Sasuke is OOC I know, but…it's crack? This is him totally Out of His League.

**disclaimer:** Naruto and all associated characters, places, names, etc., do not belong to me.

* * *

Today, Uchiha Sasuke is on a Mission.

It isn't a C-rank, or even a D-rank, and if such a classification existed, it would not even be an _E_-rank, despite his ill-advised sojourn—that is, the three years he spent gallivanting off with Some Pale-Skinned Pedophile with Too-Dark Hair and Too-Many Snakes—into the Dark Place, and _despite_ the fact that C-ranks and D-ranks (and E-ranks, only not, because those don't exist, but if they did, then he thought perhaps that _this _would not be _that_ either, but it doesn't exist, so isn't it all irrelevant, and why was he even thinking like this?) are the only sort he is allowed.

No, this Mission has not been assigned to him by the Godaime, and it has not been assigned by the council (miserable old bats that they were, he promises to get them _someday _when no one is paying attention, and Naruto is there to carry the blame).

It is a Personal Mission, and Sasuke imagines that this makes it the Most Dangerous sort of all, because it is self-advised and _he is on his own_.

Not that Sasuke isn't used to that sort of thing. The annihilation of one's entire line had the tendency to make one used to "that sort of thing,"—i.e., debilitating loneliness—and in any case, Sasuke has no time for those sort of dark and twisty thoughts, because today, _Uchiha Sasuke is on a __Mission_.

Because for the past three days, his new girlfriend, Haruno Sakura has been ignoring him, and today, he is going to find out why.

-

Sasuke hops onto her windowsill first, in an attempt to be polite. It is only 4:24 in the morning after all, and he doesn't want to wake her by using the front door.

That would be _rude_.

He finds himself (momentarily) caught unawares by the three kunai that fly toward him from the general vicinity of the bed.

_Ah_, he thinks. _Sakura must be awake_.

He dodges the projectiles with practiced ease, and considers complimenting her on her superior aim. After all, one had grazed his arm, and two had sliced through exactly five strands of hair on each side of his face, and girls liked compliments, didn't they? (And Sasuke thought, rather presumptuously, that girls _particularly _liked compliments when they came from one Uchiha Sasuke.)

"Your aim is better now, than it was yesterday at training. Congratulations," he says, expecting a warm smile, and a pink flush.

His only response is an indignant sniffle.

When he wakes up in the hospital with a black eye, he knows that that this one was not the Right Approach.

-

Subtlety did not work, so Sasuke decides that he'll try the Direct Approach.

He approaches her after her shift at the hospital, and stops short at the sight of her panting, and dirty, stained red-brown with dried blood. Sakura's green eyes are half-shut, and her hair is frizzy. She looks like she hasn't slept in days.

"You look terrible," he says, because _Honesty is the Best Policy_, or so he's heard. "You should go back to the hospital," he says, because he is Concerned. "Maybe you're sick. You _look_ sick. Or well, you would, except you also look like you gained weight instead of losing it."

She growls at him, and he blinks back in question.

"_Sai's _the one who grew up in ROOT," she hisses. "_You _don't have that excuse."

Those words are the last thing Sasuke remembers for a long while.

-

He has tried Subtlety, and he has tried Candor. It is near the end of the day, and Sasuke thinks it might be time to Combine Forces.

He finds Sakura at Ichiraku, nursing a bowl of miso ramen. The gloves she keeps so close to her are hanging out of her back pocket, tucked in snugly to keep them from falling to the ground.

_Perfect_, thinks Sasuke.

In one smooth motion, he swipes them both, and bunches them into the pocket of his loose black regulation pants. Thankfully, Sakura's only response is a muffled—and almost-sullen—greeting.

"`lo," she says, as she picks at her boiled egg. "How's your eye?"

Sasuke looks at her quickly, surprised to see that _The Plan is already working_.

"Fine," he grunts. "No thanks to you," he adds snidely, as he tucks into his own bowl (vegetable, with a side of onigiri).

Sakura huffs, and scoffs, and makes all sorts of other uncomplimentary noises.

"Well, sorry, Sasuke-kun. But you woke me up," she says crossly. "By _jumping onto my windowsill_. Then you said I looked terrible, and then that I looked sick—which I am by the way, Sasuke-kun, thank you _so_ much for noticing. And," she finishes quietly, "it hasn't been a very good week you know."

"Whatever's wrong with you, there's no need for you to take it out on innocent bystanders," he points out (quite reasonably, in his own humble opinion).

She sighs beside him, and pushes her stool back to leave.

"You're right, Sasuke-kun. I've got to go," she says quietly. "Good night."

Sasuke nods in reply as she walks out, and turns back to his ramen before his smirk gives him away.

-

It is 3:44 in the morning, and Uchiha Sasuke is standing on Haruno Sakura's doorstep.

Technically, he tells himself, The Mission had been assigned to him (by him) at exactly 4:00 the previous morning, so _technically_, it is still the same day. He is still within his desired ETF.

He knocks once, twice against the wooden door, precious contraband in hand. Her gloves are really something, he thinks.

And they smell like her, too.

A moment later, Sakura is standing in front of him, bleary-eyed and disgruntled, dressed only in a thin shirt, and very (very) short shorts.

Sasuke finds himself Intrigued.

"God, _what_," she growls. "Because I love you, Sasuke-kun, but it is _three in the _morning so someone had _better _be dying."

"I didn't use your window this time," Sasuke says smugly.

"I can see that," Sakura replied through gritted teeth. "What do you want?"

Sasuke holds out the gloves he swiped from her earlier.

"You dropped these at Ichiraku," he says blithely.

Sakura takes the gloves in hand, and Sasuke watches as her brow furrows in question.

"I didn't wear these at Ichiraku," she says slowly.

"I know," Sasuke replies. "You dropped them."

"No, Sasuke-kun, I—I don't wear these when I eat. I fight with them so it's unhygienic, and just…never mind, the point is, I _keep these in my pocket_. So how did _you _get them?"

"You dropped them, and I picked them up," Sasuke says stoutly, because _that is his story, and he is sticking to it_.

"Did you take them from my pocket, Sasuke-kun?"

"…No," he says, looking away from her.

_"Sasuke-kun…"_

"You haven't been…you—what's wrong with you? You've been strange…_er_," he says. "This whole week you've been…"

And suddenly it hits him.

"Oh," he says in realization. "I think I understand."

"Do you," Sakura says, slipping on the black gloves he'd "found" at Ichiraku.

"Yes," Sasuke says, because he _absolutely _understands. Kakashi had given him this talk when he was _twelve._

She steps toward him then, her teeth bared in what looks more like an unspoken threat, than it does a smile.

"_Do tell_," she purrs.

Sasuke shivers.

* * *

Please don't hate me. I am only slave to my imagination_…_?

Or something.

8D


	54. melon scented

**title: **melon-scented  
**pairing: **SasuSaku  
**prompt: **hand sanitzer  
**summary: **CRACK. AU. Sasuke has a Problem. Sai does what he can to help.  
**notes: **This was written a million years ago. Just found it again! And, I take roundabout routes to get to where I need to go - but only because I like the scenery.

There be some language here. I am so so bad, OMG.

**disclaimer:** Naruto and all associated characters, places, names, etc., do not belong to me.

* * *

"Fuck."

Uchiha Sasuke cursed succinctly, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. He blinked his eyes blearily, knowing without looking that they were red for reasons unrelated to _doujutsu_.

_This is ridiculous_, he thought irritably. He shut his eyes, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose, praying that the moron next door hadn't heard his groaning. Naruto would never let him get over it. He looked at the clock beside him to check the time. The male members of Team 7 had agreed to meet at 7:00 AM sharp that morning, and it was already 6:42.

_It doesn't matter_, he decided, as he allowed his body to hit the sheets with little grace. He'd slept in his uniform the night before, and what did it matter if it were a little rumpled. No, all he needed to do, was wash his face—it would wake him up, if nothing else, but he did regret not having enough time for a cold shower. He shut his eyes, determined to ignore it.

He was twenty-four years old—long past the soft, soft hands of his pink-haired Puberty, and well out of her reach. She was in _Konoha_, dammit, and he was on a mission. He was Very Busy and Important—_too _busy and _too _important to be bothered by something so puerile, but there _It _was, just staring him in the face.

"_Dammit_."

_It was all _her _fault, anyway, _he thought viciously, as he attempted to glare _It_ into submission. Her and her stupid soft hands, and her hot wet breaths, and her long pink tongue. Her skin pale enough to mark, and her small full lips, open in that small, tight—

He tried to keep it in, but it swept past his gritted teeth without so much as a _by-your-leave_, until it hung—guttural and incomplete, in the empty air of his hotel room.

_"Ah, Saku_—_"_

He was interrupted by three sharp knocks on the door, and for a moment, he didn't know whether he should have been thankful. He willed himself to calm down, breathing in and out. He was _shinobi_, dammit. He was the epitome of control.

Wincing, he got up to answer the door, his face carefully blank.

Sai stood on the other side, greeting him with that fake smile. Sasuke growled.

"What," he asked gruffly, in no mood to be anything beyond civil.

In response, Sai held out a small, plastic bottle, which was half-filled with a clear liquid. There was a picture of green aloe and cantaloupe on the front, as well as a garishly orange advertisement that proclaimed that it would not only sanitize, but also, _smooth _rough hands, until they were silken and baby-soft.

Sasuke was Decidedly Unimpressed.

"What the hell is this," he said, swiping it without so much as a _thank you_. Sai, to his credit, did not even twitch.

"It is hand-sanitizer, Sasuke-kun, and it is melon-scented. I am told it even has helpful antibacterial bubbles that massage your hands as you purify. You can see them through the clear case," he continued, either ignorant of, or entirely indifferent to the way Sasuke's eyes narrowed with every additional word. "Naruto-kun suggested I come by to give you this, Sasuke-kun. He said that we didn't have much time left, and that you might not have much time to wash up after you finish cleaning out your pen—"

Sai was unhappily interrupted in his narration, by the sound of crunching bone.

As he floated into that lovely black blanket that seemed to be overriding his vision, Sai wondered whether this particular confrontation was the reason for Naruto's larger-than-average grin this morning, as he'd sent him out on his errand.

* * *

8D


	55. palms

**title: **palms  
**pairing: **SasuSaku  
**for: **_my babies_  
**summary: **FLUFF. AU. SasuSaku. "You have my heart in the palm of your hands."  
**notes: **Today is Mother's Day. This piece has nothing to do with mothers, but here it is. :)

**disclaimer:** Naruto and all associated characters, places, names, etc., do not belong to me.

* * *

They'd been going over evasive tactics, developing strategies for their upcoming mission in the Land of Mist, when she'd spoken suddenly, her voice reverberating in the Spartan emptiness of his study.

"You have my heart in the palm of your hands." She said the words simply, as though they were literal fact, as though the steady beat and pulse of it were audible over the steady hum of his air conditioner. The sentiment, it seemed, caused her no embarrassment—she was giving him honesty.

Sasuke paused, mid-sentence, and Sakura wondered whether she'd imagined his swift intake of breath.

"I have our mission scroll in the palm of my hands," he said instead, determined to be obtuse. _This isn't the time, _he thought. Right now they were, or should have been, talking about business. "We should get back into it, so you can go home."

She only looked at him with her green, green eyes.

"I am home," she said softly.

There had been moments before this—times when he'd allowed her to watch him watch her, when his hands had lingered where they hadn't needed to, when his mouth had curved just so, in a barest semblance of a smile.

And maybe, Sakura thought, maybe wasn't the best time. But she was here.

And he, she hoped—he was ready.

"We leave in two months," Sakura said, rounding the table so that she was standing beside him. At the familiar scent of pine and forest, she closed her eyes and breathed him in. Sasuke stood perfectly still all the while, even at the first tentative feel of her fingers against his face.

She swayed slightly, and it was then that he moved, lifting his arm slowly to come around her so that his hands touched at the small of her back.

Her lips brushed against his cheek, and he looked at her for a moment, before bowing against her, his lips stopping at the hollow of her throat.

"We leave in two months," she repeated, her eyes still closed, and her head above his, so they seemed to be tangled, his hands at her waist, and her lips at the top of his head—a lover's knot. "We have time," she finished.

"And I have your—" he started.

"—heart," she finished. "In the palm of your hands."

"Yes."

* * *

Hug someone today. :)


	56. walk my way

**title: **walk my way  
**pairing: **KibaSaku  
**for: **Annie, because she asked so nicely. :)  
**summary: **AU. KibaSaku. "Just looking at you makes me hot—and not in the good way, either."

**notes: **Clearly, I'm out of practice if I've resorted to identifying characters by their hair colors. Forgive me?

Also, there are very few people in the world I would break Sasuke and Sakura up for—or well, not really, since Sassy doesn't even figure here—and Annie happens to be one of them. My point is, this pairing will probably not be a very common occurrence—whether or not that's a good thing remains to be seen.

**disclaimer:** _Naruto_ isn't mine.

* * *

It was the fifth time he'd walked past her table, and Sakura was beginning to get suspicious. She'd been enjoying the summer air—or rather, the renaissance of the white summer dress she'd mended with expert stitching—and reading Marquez for the fourth time that month, but it had become impossible to concentrate on Beauty and her nameless god with a distraction like him stalking about.

Out of the corner of her eye, she looked at the other occupants of the café. In the corner, there was a blond in loud orange working through Palahniuk, and four seats away, a redhead with black-framed glasses was chatting loudly on her Pearl. Neither of them—indeed, none of the other patrons—seemed particularly bothered by the man wearing the oversized parka in the middle of July.

Sakura sighed and shut her book as he walked past again—this time, though, he was carrying a blueberry scone on the way back, so it at least looked legitimate. She gave him a small smile, and gestured him over, hoping that she hadn't been imagining his small glances toward her table.

He responded with a sheepish grin, and at her urging, sat in the empty seat in front of her.

"Sorry," he said, in a voice far softer but no deeper in pitch, than Sakura had imagined. "It was a bet, kind of thing," he stated, gesturing to a table near the entrance of the café, where a white-haired man with red eyes waved at her, clearly unabashed. The stranger in front of her, however, sounded embarrassed, and as Sakura watched, raised a hand to rub the nape of his neck.

Sakura quirked a brow at him.

"It was a bet to see whether you'd be able to walk past my table five—no, six, times? A toddler could have won that."

He threw her a half-hearted glare until he heard the teasing laughter that came after.

"Yeah, maybe," he said, before tossing her a roguish grin. "But it got you to talk to me, didn't it?"

She chuckled.

"That it did," she replied. "Why don't you take your coat off? It's July, you know—_summer_," she continued pointedly.

"Look at you," he said mischievously, as he hastily complied. "Not five minutes and you're already talking me out of my clothes. And you don't even know my name, yet."

She wrinkled her nose at him.

"It's making me hot just looking at you—and not in the good way, either. And what is your name, stranger? Being that I was the object of your wager, I deserve to know, don't I?"

He laughed, and Sakura felt her cheeks grow warm.

"I'm Kiba," he said, holding a hand out for her to shake. Sakura thought it was a rather antiquated gesture, considering it was the time of Twitters and IMs, but she grasped it nonetheless, and was suddenly struck with awareness.

"My name is Sakura," she replied softly. "And I think it's to meet you, Kiba."

"You think," he asked, letting go of her hand. "And what, Sakura," he asked, "what would it take to change that _think_ into something more solid?"

At this opening, she smiled, feeling lighter than sunshine.

"Buy me another drink," she said, "and find out, Kiba."

* * *

Well, there's that. :)

Also, I apologize Annie, but unless I am struck with a bolt of inspiration, this is probably staying a one-shot.


	57. knock out

**title: **knock out  
**pairing: **SasuSaku  
**summary: **Sometimes Love knocks you down. Sometimes, he even does it literally.

**notes: **These pseudo-songfics are ridiculous aren't they? Also, this is me pretending to put a spin on the cliché. Obviously, it did not work. :D And yes, I know that bruises aren't actually healed by band-aids.

**disclaimer:** _Naruto_ isn't mine. Neither is Keri Hilson's (et al) song.

* * *

"You know," Ino said conversationally, "you are like the poster child for unhealthy relationships—"

"Not another word," Sakura said through gritted teeth as she placed a bandage over the awkwardly situated bruise on her right temple. She'd thought that after spending all four years in high school on the football team that Naruto would have better aim, but apparently not. He was lucky that they'd ended their relationship amicably, or she'd be punting _him_ over the field goal for this one. Sakura huffed irritably as Ino continued her spiel, seemingly unperturbed by the twitching in the corner of best friend's left eye.

"—and, I mean that literally. Because, it'd be a whole different—and uncool—thing if your boyfriends were _hitting_ you, or something, because no way would I stand for that, you know, and I know _you_ wouldn't either, but they aren't! You—you just manage to attract all sorts of _grievous_ injury to your person when you're with someone, you know?"

"A minor bruise is hardly what I'd call a grievous injury, Ino-pig," Sakura finished dryly, giving herself a final check in the mirror. Satisfied that the _Hello Kitty!_ Band-aid would stay in place, she left the restroom, Ino trailing behind her. Classes were starting again in five minutes, and Sakura refused to ruin her record for perfect attendances to listen to her friend's nonsense.

"Well, you can't deny that you have this freakish tendency to draw scrapes and bruises whenever you've got a boyfriend. I mean, let the list speak for itself, right? Kiba pushed you into the sandbox when we were five, and you had to go to the nurse because you'd inhaled some sand, or whatever. Sai bit your lip in eighth grade when you guys had your first kiss because he misjudged his angle of attack, and Gaara stepped on your foot during your first slow-dance at Homecoming sophomore year. And now, Naruto tries to be all _"Go long!" _during our free period and nails you right in the forehead. If he weren't so in love with you, I'd think he did it as revenge or something. But, _God_, if it's like that now, imagine what you're going to look like after you start having sex—"

_"Ino!"_

"Sorry," she continued, clearly unapologetic. "But it's true! You have not yet escaped even _one_ relationship unscathed, and I'm not even talking _emotionally_. It's ridiculous."

"_You're _ridiculous," Sakura said tetchily, more out of habit, than any actual malice.

Ino rolled her eyes, her hand already poised to open the door to her Fine Art class. After a moment spent considering Sakura, Ino smiled softly at her best friend as she turned the corner to go to her History lesson. "I'm just saying, Sakura. It'll be just your luck that the guy of your dreams literally comes and just _knocks—"_

At that moment, Ino heard a sudden shout, a muttered epithet,—decidedly masculine by the sound of the voice—and the unmistakable noise of two bodies colliding.

When the smoke cleared, it was one Uchiha Sasuke who lay hovering over one Haruno Sakura. The latter's eyes were half-open, and for a moment, Ino feared the worst, until the muffled groan of pain reached her ears.

_"Ow,"_ Sakura said, too dazed to say anything else.

Sasuke, for his part, looked nearly as unruffled as Ino had ever seen him. It was only the minute tightening of his jaw—and the red tips of his ears—that told her that he wasn't nearly as indifferent as he seemed.

He raised himself off of her slowly and back to a kneeling position, and Ino saw that he'd somehow had the foresight to cradle her head in his hands before the hit the floor, so at least she'd had _that _to her cushion her fall.

"Sorry," he said gruffly. "Are you all right," he asked from his position beside her, in a tone that would have been 'grudging' in another person, but passed for 'mildly concerned' in Sasuke.

Sakura's only response was an indistinct stream of words. Sasuke sighed, clearly resigned, and in one fluid movement, swept her up in his arms.

From the sidelines, Ino almost swooned, but before she could, Sasuke adjusted her so that she was hanging limply over his right shoulder, his hand placed firmly on the small of her back. Ino gaped.

"Oh well," she said to no one in particular, as she recovered her composure. "If she were awake, I'm sure she'd appreciate the view."

She was broken from her train of thought by Sasuke's next words.

"You," he said, gesturing to Ino. "Tell her teacher I took her to get her head checked."

Ino almost giggled at his choice of words. Instead, she gave him a mock-salute which only made him scowl.

"Right, Captain!"

-

"What happened," Sakura asked later, when she woke up in the white confines of the nurse's office. "I feel terrible."

Ino looked up from her homework and smiled brightly.

"You know," she began, "sometimes I'm right. And you should believe me when I tell you that considering your track record thus far, Sasuke running into you makes it totally obvious that the two of you might as well start picking baby names out right now. I expect to be godmother by the way," she said cheerily.

"Ino," Sakura ground out. "What happened to me? Why does my head hurt so much?"

In lieu of a proper response, Ino smiled serenely.

"Sometimes," she said instead, "sometimes Love knocks you down. And sometimes, he even does it literally."

Sakura groaned.

* * *

OH, ANNE. WHY DO YOU FAIL AT LIFE?


	58. the line between

**title:** the line between  
**pairing:** SasuSakuKiba  
**summary:** These, Sakura decides, are the facts: she wants Kiba, and she needs Sasuke.  
**for:** Annie. This is Part II of my gift to her. I have not decided how many parts there are yet, but I imagine a lot, since this is not even the pairing you requested. The first part is the KibaSaku I posted not just a few days ago. I apologize for the lateness!  
**notes:** This was supposed to be a love triangle, but it sort of came out like an OT3. Eheh? And, uh, just FYI—you should um, expect more of this pairing / triangle from me. But, in decidedly crackier form. D

**disclaimer: **Naruto isn't mine.

* * *

There is a marked difference between wanting and needing, and after a few years in Limbo, Sakura finally knows what it is to live on either side.

-

She needs Sasuke—she needs him like she needs air, like she needs water.

The thought of a world without him results in a physical ache—a throbbing that begins at the soles of her feet and ends at the very tips of her nails. It's an ironic sort of emptiness that she imagines just might fill the hollows of her throat, or the curve of her back, if she ever allowed herself to think about it for more than a few moments.

Her needing him is visceral, is instinctive—she thinks sometimes, in her more absurd moments, that she might be the latest in a line of some new species; the sort that can't live without fighting for some lost cause. In this way, Sakura thinks she is far past loving him.

-

Kiba, though, is different.

She thinks perhaps, she might want Kiba, and that makes all the difference. She doesn't lose her breath at the sight of him, though she does smile, and while Sasuke might be her human equivalent of water, Kiba is more frivolous, more fun—like hot cider, or pineapple juice, or, in the evenings, a fine glass of wine.

It's the voluntary nature of her relationship with him that makes all the difference. There is no desperation with him, no devastation waiting in the wings. It's a jarring change that Sakura has yet to get used to, and if she's honest with herself, she isn't quite sure whether she likes it. He is so easy, so open with her, and even if he wasn't, his eyes would be.

-

These, Sakura decides, are the facts: she wants Kiba, and she needs Sasuke. There is no _but_ between the two, even in her thoughts—after all, her desires exist concurrently with her instincts, and denying either is an exercise in futility.

There is, she thinks again, a marked difference between wanting and needing.

So, she keeps them both around her—inside her—and becomes the line between.

* * *

I am so ridiculous.


	59. mrs robinson

**title:** mrs. robinson  
**pairing:** NejiMikotoFugaku LOVE TRIANGLE. SasuSaku.  
**summary:** "Are you trying to seduce me, Mikoto-san?"  
**for:** Pina, whose prompt appears in the summary. And Jazz, because she is crack.  
**notes:** Same universe as _coo coo cachoo_, aka Chapter 42.

**disclaimer: **Naruto isn't mine.

* * *

Mikoto sniffled into her uchiwa silk-screened handkerchief, wiping her tear-stained eyes with thin, dainty fingers. Her panting breaths were less rhythmic than they were sporadic—harsh almost-sobs that clearly betrayed her worry, even as she tried desperately to maintain a sense of calm.

Hyuuga Neji tried desperately to remember all this, and sympathize accordingly, even as his pale hawk-eyes followed the rise and fall of her heaving chest. He stiffened as she turned to him with ink-black eyes.

"A-are you sure there hasn't been any word, Neji-kun? Fugaku and his men were only sent to Suna to help escort Tsunade-sama as a courtesy. They should have been back by now." She turned away from him to look at the door behind them, causing the fabric of her black, regulation Jounin long-sleeved shirt to stretch taut against her stomach.

Neji stifled a squeak as she began to hiccup, causing her body to jerk most _agreeably_.

_Deep breaths_, Neji thought. _Nothing could possibly go wrong._ After all Sasuke and Sakura were on some "herb-gathering" mission in the outskirts of town and weren't due to be back until sundown.

_Ha,_ he thought smugly. _Amateurs_. He'd bet anything the Uchiha would come home with his shirt inside-out—again.

The idiot was off frolicking in some green meadow with Hinata-sama, and Neji was fairly certain he'd heard that blonde trollop on Team Ten screaming for Nara to help her at the Yamanaka flower shop earlier at lunchtime.

Itachi was training with his ANBU squad.

Fugaku was conveniently absent.

Mikoto was distraught.

And Neji had been sent here to keep her updated as a courtesy to the wife of Konoha's Chief of Police.

They were All Alone.

"I'm sorry, Mikoto-san," he said, pitching his voice low—he'd read somewhere that it was a sign of virility in men. "There's been no word, yet. I'm sure that Shizune will contact us with any news."

"The borders are safe, though, aren't they," she said quietly, almost as though she were looking to assure herself. "There hasn't been much trouble lately with Akatsuki determined to keep a low profile." She ran a hand through her hair anxiously, causing the strands to fall around her face in what Neji saw as most suggestive. What, with the sweat from the heat of the day, her self-mussed hair, and her harsh pants, well, one would be given cause to think that perhaps she'd spent the afternoon—

"Oh, Neji-kun!"

He almost flinched.

"Yes, Mikoto-san?"

She looked at him, dark eyes brimming with tears.

"Oh, Neji-kun! Oh, Neji-kun! What if—what if—what if something's gone _wrong_? Maybe there's a reason Tsunade-sama asked Fugaku and one of his best squads to come along with her regular ANBU guard! What if she knew something was going to go wrong? What if they've been attacked? What if he's _hurt_?"

Neji was only half-listening, still dazed at the way his name sounded coming from her lips accompanied by such short breaths.

He thought it would be worth it to give up all hair products and eschew the feel of his silk-straight mane, if only to hear her say his name—just like that—every morning for the rest of his life.

_Yes_, he thought,_ this must be what Love is.  
_  
Then, he shook himself out of his stupor, realizing that the Love of His Life was still looking at him for Strength, for Reassurance, for Guidance. With her dark ink-black eyes, and her peach-pale skin—suffused with only the barest hint of Summer's blush—and that her soft pink mouth, turned down in a worried pout, Hyuuga Neji thought that Uchiha Mikoto looked every inch the Damsel-in-Distress.

It was possible that she hadn't even the slightest bit of genuine concern for her husband, Neji thought to himself. Indeed, quite possible. She knew that there was no real danger behind the escort mission to Suna. She knew that the Akatsuki were still recovering from losing two of their members to a civil war in Amegakure, and a third to that soulless Orochimaru. She knew that _Fugaku_, Neji thought distastefully, sneering at the name, was probably on his way home right this minute, and that more likely than not, their _"esteemed"_ Hokage had only gotten sidetracked by a traveling casino.

She knew that.

Or, well, she should have—which left only one possible reason for her particular brand of deliciousness.

Neji smirked knowingly.

"Mikoto-san," he began huskily "Are you trying to seduce me?"

* * *

WRY.


	60. therapy

**title: **therapy**  
main pairing:** SasuSaku.**  
****summary: **Sasuke, Sakura and sexu—er, that is, _technical—_difficulties.  
**notes: **This did not take all that much time to complete. I don't actually want to think about what that might mean. Event taken shamelessly from Grey's Anatomy, Season Five.  
**dedication: **For Pina, who asked for this. Oh God. XD  
**warning: **AU. Possible OOC? :D And, yes, this chapter contains **lime**, and strong language.

**disclaimer: **_Naruto_ isn't mine.

* * *

It had taken some doing but they were alone now, with only the moonlight and shadows for company. For once, the spectral inhabitants of the Uchiha estate were silent.

The weekend alone had been her idea, and Sakura had taken care to arrange her leave from hospital at the same time as Sasuke had filed for a few days' respite from the missions office. As was their custom, she'd arrived home first and lowered the blinds so shafts of light were the only things visible from the world outside. The lights had been left off purposely when they'd left that morning, so when she walked inside, there was the only the soft sort of darkness that preceded an intimate evening.

She looked around, at their bedroom—clear from any extraneous debris—and was satisfied. The negligee she'd been wearing under her uniform that day was rumpled from being confined; it gave her the look of someone who'd never left her bed.

_Exactly the effect I was hoping for,_ Sakura thought.

All that was left to do now was wait.

-

As she expected, Sasuke was early.

He had the look of something feral as he stalked toward her, stripping himself of first his shirt, and then his pants. The latter, he attempted to kick off, unsuccessfully. She stifled a laugh when it caught against his foot, but could not stop the smirk when he all but stumbled over the hem of his pants in his haste to remove the,.

"You're excited," she commented, as he caught himself against the bed. His response was a low growl.

"Shut up," he said huskily.

Sakura only laughed harder.

"You don't get to play sexy Sasuke when you almost fell on your face a few seconds ago," she said through her giggles. "It ruins the mood a little."

Sasuke stepped closer, so there was all but a breath between them, and inhaled deeply so that even that small space seemed to disappear.

"I'm in a hurry," he said, running his hand through her hair and pulling it back, so her neck arched towards him. Sakura whimpered, but at his words began to register, shrugged his touch away.

"What do you mean you're in a hurry," she demanded. "We've planned this weekend for weeks, we got our vacations straight—" She trailed off at the sight of Sasuke shaking his head.

"Naruto," he said simply. "It's a classified mission. I leave tomorrow morning."

"He is the world's biggest C.B.," Sakura growled, unusually frustrated. She wouldn't have been so vulgar—it was only disappointment that made her so.

Sasuke's brow furrowed at the unfamiliar allusion. At the look, Sakura sighed, and clarified.

"Cock block," she replied succinctly, lying down on their bed with an arm covering her eyes.

"Aa," Sasuke said simply. "It fits."

"Just because Hinata-chan's on that stupid three month mission, it doesn't mean he should take it out on the rest of us—_oh, Sasuke-kun_!"

While she'd been distracted, Sasuke had taken the opportunity to cover her body with his own. She responded to his kisses enthusiastically, moaning into his mouth as his hands lingered on her skin. She smiled against his neck when he began to kiss her shoulder, and, without warning, flipped them over so that she was now on top.

At his incredulous look, she smiled.

"We need to make this quick," she said seriously, "I can't have you distracting me."

-

Their pace had started slow. She loved seeing the sounds that came from his mouth, the groans that stopped at his lips. Sakura loved him like this, when he was open and vulnerable to her—knowing that she was the only one who'd ever see him like this was the most potent of aphrodisiacs, and she told him so with little aplomb.

"Sadist," he said thickly, his fingers digging into her hips. He thrust up into her, in an attempt to make her go faster, to bring them both to the brink. "Faster, Sakura."

She acquiesced, and began to roll her hips with greater speed, until he could no longer control his grunts. At the added sensations, Sakura threw her head back and shut her eyes, glad for his hands at her hips—without them she would have fallen into him.

She moved even faster now, unable to stop herself, wanting only to feel the familiar sensation of release, the falling over the precipice that he was so good at giving her. She looked down at Sasuke, and smiled at the way his brows were furrowed, at the strain in his mouth—he was so _close_. He was opening his mouth, he was—

_"Fuck!"_

At the sound, Sakura stopped—slowed, really. Disoriented, and vaguely concerned, especially after she noticed that his eyes had been screwed shut, she slowed her pace, until she stopped completely, ignoring her body's protests.

"Huh," she said, intelligently. "Sasuke-kun, what's wrong?"

It was when he responded with a whimper, that she really began to worry.

-

It was bruised.

That had been the verdict when they had both calmed down enough for her to examine it.

At the word, Sasuke's eyes had begun to twitch.

"_Bruised_," he said dully. Sakura had rather preferred it when he was being hysterical.

"Bruised," she said, confirming it. "But minor, so no permanent damage, Sasuke-kun. So, no worries, yeah?" She winced at how artificial she sounded.

"This is _your_ fault," he said, childishly, refusing to look at her. Sakura half-expected him to fold his arms across his chest, in the universal symbol of frustration.

"I didn't hear you complaining," she shot back, momentarily wounded, before she recovered. "If you don't shut up about it, I won't tell you the good news."

He gave her a hard look. "_Good_ news?"

At this, she began came closer to where he was lying on their bed, and began to trace nonsense patterns across his chest, ignoring the look on his face, which said quite clearly, '_you're not helping_.'

"You'll have to call out of this mission, Sasuke-kun," she said silkily. "Can't walk with something like this, uh, weighing you down. Doctor's orders. You need your rest. And then, we'll go through your _therapy_ options."

At that last word, Sasuke grew very, very still.

"Therapy," he said, trying very hard to pretend he wasn't interested.

Sakura smiled.

"Yes, Sasuke-kun," she confirmed. "Therapy."

* * *

I do not even know. XD

Please let me know what you thought of this, anyway!

And, _cherry apple wine _is totally coming.


	61. plus c'est la même chose

**title:** plus c'est la même chose  
**pairing:** SasuSaku  
**prompt:** Pinaface's "You make me feel twelve again."  
**summary: **61 UP. Sasuke, Sakura, and the ways they stay the same."You make me feel twelve again."

**notes:** This was started a long time ago. I wanted it SHORT. Like, drabble short. Three hundred words short. But, I've come to the realization that I can't write pieces without backstory.

**disclaimer: **_Naruto _is not mine at all.

* * *

At the sound of her approaching footsteps, Sasuke briefly looked up from where he was cleaning his _katana,_ but otherwise, did not acknowledge her presence. Sakura tried to temper the disappointment that came almost as a reflex. Would it be so difficult to react to her, she wondered, to at least recognize her. Almost immediately as the idea occurred to her, Sakura brushed it aside. His willful refusal to _see_ her was, Sakura reflected as she made her way to him, the response she had expected.

"Hello, Sasuke-kun."

She watched, unperturbed, as his eyes narrowed with every step she took in his direction. When they were separated by an arm's length, Sakura stopped, and looked at him.

He had grown like a weed under her mentor's less than gentle care. The shirt he'd come home in—he'd refused her offer to buy him a change of clothes—was now weathered, and gray; its awkward cuts seemed to emphasize his gauntness, a testament to the food strike he'd undergone in a (successful) effort to have his trial moved up to a closer date. The Council, as weary as they were of the last Uchiha, seemed unwilling to relinquish the Sharingan. His punishment had been what they expected—six years of probation, interspersed with random inspections and D-rank missions, and a prohibition on Sasuke's moving up to _jounin_ until more than half of Konoha's forces would vouch for his loyalty. That last hurdle, Sakura knew as she slipped into contemplation, would not be an easy one. The best of them had long memories, and would not soon forget neither the first attempt to retrieve Sasuke, nor would they be soon to overlook his actions at the _Kage_ conference.

His hair had gone to seed, his skin had only gone paler.

He was, she thought peevishly, still beautiful—and now, he was looking at her. Sakura realized that she had been staring at him.

"What," he said gruffly, in lieu of greeting her, of replying in kind. (_Of course, _Sakura thought—only a little weary—_of course_.) "Why are you here?"

It was this way with them; it was Sakura who initiated their interactions. For every night they had sat together at the ramen stand with Naruto in tow, it was Sakura whose pockets always felt a little bit lighter. (Sasuke refused to pay for a meal he claimed he did not want.) In the wake of his disrespectful silences in the Hokage's office—his probation, it seemed, was wearing on him—it was Sakura, who bowed for him, whose dry lips uttered words of apology. After every D-ranked mission he completed under her supervision, it was her hands that filled out mission reports, that commented on his performance.

It had been Sakura who cried for him six months ago, when Naruto had rushed him to her OR, bleeding and broken with only skin holding him together. It had been Sakura who spoke for him at his hearing, Sakura who had soothed the burns on his body, and Sakura, who'd volunteered to oversee his rehabilitation.

It was Sakura who _moved_ for him.

And yet, it was Sakura, who had spent half her life in the waiting state—who navigated the waters of their unique dynamic with no complaint.

It was Sakura who loved him.

As she reflected, she began to respond to his earlier query, if not in words, then in action—the best way to teach, after all, was by example. Sakura folded herself into a reclining position beside Sasuke, who had gone back to cleaning his weapons after she had declined to respond.

"No reason really, Sasuke," she said now, after the fact. "I was just wondering what you were doing—how you were doing."

He grunted.

"You saw me yesterday, Sakura," he said, focusing on a particularly stubborn scratch near _Kusanagi_'s hilt.

"I know, Sasuke-kun," she said patiently. "But things could have happened between yesterday and today. Things do change, you know."

At that, he stopped his motions, looked at her in that inscrutable way she both adored and hated. She wanted so much to read him, to _know_ him. Here she was, open for him. How long until—

"Do they really, Sakura? Have things changed?" He eyed the small distance between them with a critical eye.

"Of course they do," she said automatically. "And of course they have."

Sasuke shook his head.

"Then why are you still here?"

Sakura wondered whether she was imagining the way his eyes seemed to have softened. _Probably_, she thought, only a little wistfully.

She could move mountains, she reflected. She could shatter boulders, and refashion rivers. She could knit skin together, and re-grow bones.

He was older. She should have been wiser; and yet, here she was again, in front of him and vulnerable. Hadn't she learned better yet, she wondered? What was it about Sasuke that made it impossible for her to walk away from him?

Sakura inhaled, exhaled, confessed.

"You make me feel twelve again."

* * *

Sigh. I am trying to write today. We will see how much more I get done. :)

Thank you everyone for your reviews! I can't believe I passed 900! It is all really kind of a miracle. If you are still out there, please let me know what you thought!


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